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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap. , Copyright No. 

ShelL.L_^.__:. -^ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 



The People of Our Parish 



The 



People of Our Parish 

Being Chronicle and Comment of 

Katharine Fitzgerald^ Pew-Holder in the 

Church of St. Paul the Apostle 



EDITED BY y 

LELIA HARDIN BUGG 

Author of **The Correct Thing for Catholics," 

"Orchids: A Novel," *'The Prodigal's 

Daughter," etc. 



BOSTON 
MARLIER, CALLANAN, & COMPANY 

1900 



1 



TWO COPIES HECEIVEO, 

Literary of Congr08% 
Qifioo of tilt 

AP^ 16 1900 

KegfsUr of Oopyrlghtsii 



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61041 

Copyright^ igoo 
By Marlier, Callanan, & Company 



SECOND COPY, 






Contents 



Chapter 




Page 


I. 


Sunday at Noon 


I 


II. 


The Social Side 


13 


III. 


Wedding Cards 


28 


IV. 


An Old Question 


39 


V. 


A Grave Question ........ 


45 


VI. 


Exceptions to General Rules . . 


60 


VII. 


A Footnote to an Old Discussion . . 


73 


VIII. 


Some Domestic Interiors .... 


79 


IX. 


A Plea for the Children 


92 


X. 


The Bread-Winners .,..., 


lOl 


XL 


The Passing Years ..,,... 


116 


XII. 


Cheerful Givers c 


127 


XIII. 


A National Truth Society . . . 


140 


XIV. 


The Priest of the Family . . . . 


• 155 


XV. 


Catholic Literature 


. 165 


XVI. 


The School Question ...... 


. 174 


XVII. 


Boarding-School and College . . 


187 


XVIII. 


A Note on Funerals 


210 



vi Contents 

Chapter Page 

XIX. Instructing the Pastor . - 218 

XX. Our Parish Societies 226 

XXI. The Parish Fair 235 

XXII. Notes from a Mission 245 



The People of Our Parish 



SUNDAY AT NOON 

THE hands of the clock in the steeple point to 
twelve, — it may be a little before, or a few 
minutes after, — and the angelus rings sonorously in 
the familiar tones of the great bell. 

High Mass is just over ; there is a stir about the 
ponderous doors of the stately edifice of Saint Paul 
the Apostle, and the people pour out in irregular 
procession. 

First, of course, in their best Sunday-clothes, 
come the young men who have been kneeling near 
the door, either because they are too poor or else 
too penurious to rent a seat, like self-respecting 
gentlemen, in their parish church. Some of these 
slipped into their places after the priest was on the 
altar, and were out in the vestibule before the last 
gospel, so that their estimate of their own souls 
evidently is not high. 

Some girls, tawdrily over-dressed, and whispering 
vulgarly as they descend the aisles, regardless of the 
presence of the Blessed Sacrament, hurry after the 
young men. 

Mr. and Mrs. Stiles are among those who appear 
anxious to make their escape as soon as possible. 



2 The People of Our Parish 

Mr. Stiles rises from one knee, folds away the hand- 
kerchief on which he has been kneeling, brushes the 
dust from his trousers, makes a little bobbing genu- 
flection in the direction of the altar, and with his 
arms swinging at his sides, elbows his way down the 
aisle. He has not been well brought up, else he 
would know what to do with his hands. 

Mr. Stiles is said to be a level-headed business 
man, but he seems incapable of realizing the fact 
that, since his pew is near the front, he might just as 
well possess his soul in peace and prayer, and let 
those below him get out of the way before attempt- 
ing to make his exit. He would arrive at the door 
just as soon in the end, and avoid the wear and 
tear on his patience and nerve tissues. 

Mrs. Stiles is a little butter-ball sort of woman, 
with large diamond ear-rings, which she persists in 
wearing to church and everywhere else, in apparent 
ignorance of the fact that they are distinctly ^^bad 
form." She trots along at her husband's side, talk- 
ing incessantly to one or another of her acquaint- 
ances corralled in the crush of the middle aisle. 

Mrs. Jones hurries, or tries to hurry, only the 
crowd keeps her back ; for she has an infidel hus- 
band at home, and the Sunday dinner must be set 
before him with that nicety of detail which only the 
housemother, on a limited income, can secure. 

Mrs. Bayless also hurries ; her sister-in-law is com- 
ing to dinner, and during Mass her thoughts have 
been divided between the august Sacrifice of the 
Altar and the probable outcome of a new sauce, 
which she has intrusted to the vagaries of the cook. 



Sunday at Noon 3 

But then Mrs. Bayless never does hear Mass, as 
she will tell you herself. '' I was at school for four 
years where the chapel was so badly lighted that it 
was impossible to read the prayers in my prayer- 
book, or follow the priest at the altar, and I got 
into the habit of just sitting there with my thoughts 
on any and every thing — my lessons, boxes from 
home, letters ; and now I simply cannot pray at 
Mass." 

She says this airily, and without in the least real- 
izing the deplorable state into which she has plunged 
her poor soul. She has been physically present in 
the church for the hour of the Holy Sacrifice, but 
she has not assisted at it, and when she rises from 
her knees and leaves the church she will not enter it 
again until the next Sunday, when the same empty 
form will be repeated. Twice a year she goes to 
the Sacraments, and it would be interesting to know 
whether in these semiannual confessions she tells 
the priest that she has not once heard Mass during 
the six months since she told him a similar tale. 
She does not seem to understand that Mass and 
the Sacraments are channels of grace, the precious 
and indispensable strength of the soul ; rather she 
seems to look upon them as outward acts to be per- 
formed in a perfunctory way and then forgotten. 

One shudders to think of such a spiritual condi- 
tion ! 

It is to be hoped that at the next mission in our 
church there will be a good old-fashioned sermon 
on '' The right Way to assist at Mass.'' 

The old crone who reads the seven penitential 



4 The People of Our Parish 

psalms, or the prayers for confession, during Mass, 
might profit by this sermon as well as Mrs. Bayless. 

Miss Wiggins may be counted upon to be just on 
the border of the crush, attired in bizarre raiment 
which makes the judicious grieve and the malicious 
ones derisive; for the good lady is a spinster of 
forty who dresses after the fashion of her young 
niece, of half that age. The middle aisle of her 
parish church is a favorite place in which to display 
her toilets. 

Mrs. Wallace and Mrs. Madden whisper in friendly 
confidence as they go down the aisle, their husbands 
just in front of them. 

When about two-thirds of the congregation are 
bunched together in the aisles, the organist, having 
finished a march, breaks out into some tonal com- 
binations of his own, with a vigorous manipulation 
of the pedals ; the soprano leans over the railing and 
smiles down upon a young man, who bows to her 
impressively, the tenor whispers something to the 
alto, and the bass stands like a Buddha in a frock 
coat, surrounded by the chorus. 

Of course Father Ryan has thundered forth 
anathemas against those who show so little rever- 
ence for the Divine Presence in the Tabernacle as 
to chatter in the aisles, and even in the choir. A 
placard at the head of the stairway leading to the 
choir commands SILENCE in big capitals, but no 
one seems to pay much attention to it, except when 
the whisper goes round, '* Father Ryan is looking.*' 

And Father O'Neil, in his sweetly imploring way, 
has again and again spoken about this abuse. \ Can 



Sunday at Noon 5 

you not give our Blessed Lord one little hour? " he 
cries. ** You come here on Sunday for Mass, and 
many of you, in fact the most of you, never come 
again for even a five minutes' visit before the 
Blessed Sacrament during all the seven days of 
the week. And when you come you show less 
reverence for your God than you would for an 
earthly king if you were admitted to his presence. 
You would not whisper and chatter with your 
friends if you were leaving the audience-chamber 
of the Queen of England, — you would not dare; 
but no such respect restrains you before Jesus in the 
Tabernacle. 

" And how many in this congregation are always 
punctual at Mass? You can be in time for your 
business, promptly on time for a train ; you can be 
at the theatre before the curtain goes up, because 
you do not wish to miss one fraction of an evening's 
pleasure ; but you cannot be in time for Mass. You 
come straggling in after the priest is on the altar, 
and sometimes even after the Holy Sacrifice has 
begun ; you show yourselves not only un-Christian, 
but also under-bred, for no well-bred person would 
wantonly disturb a whole congregation at their de- 
votions by coming late. 

" And it is not the hard-working mechanic who 
is guilty of this breach, nor the poor, ignorant 
domestic from the rich man's kitchen, nor the 
fragile little woman who stands on her feet ten 
hours a day in one of our big shops ; no, it is the 
banker, the lawyer, the merchant, who has been out 
late * on pleasure bent ' on Saturday night, and who 



6 The People of Our Parish 

wants to sleep late on Sunday morning; it is the 
lukewarm Catholic who dawdles over the Sunday 
papers until the second bell rings, or the woman 
who has tired herself out rushing around to card 
parties and receptions during the week, and who 
takes the * rest cure ' on Sunday morning, when she 
should be getting her husband and children off to 
church. You come late, and then you push and 
crowd one another in your efforts to be among the 
first to leave. Shame on such Catholics ! One 
little fraction of God's own day given grudgingly to 
His service, and some of you would not give that 
were it not a strict command of the Church you dis- 
credit.^' 

Then for a few Sundays there is a noticeable 
falling-off of the delinquents, and if any one does 
arrive late he steals in quietly, and drops into the 
first vacant seat he finds. And at the end everybody 
waits devoutly until the priest has descended the 
altar, said the prayers, and left the sanctuary. 
There is a reverential silence as the throng files 
slowly down the aisles. The change is so edifying, 
and the good example so inspiring, that one almost 
wishes that the people of St. James' parish could be 
present and profit by our beautiful conduct; but it 
soon wears away, the stragglers reappear, the whis- 
pers begin again, and the people again surge towards 
the door in their haste to leave the presence of their 
Saviour. 

But there are always some faithful souls, just as 
there were the loving Marys to stand at the foot of 
the cross. 



Sunday at Noon 7 

That saintly old aristocrat, Mrs. Chatrand, breathes 
forth the spirit of real piety in every act; if she has 
ever been late for Mass no member of the parish 
can recall the fact; always quietly yet elegantly 
gowned, as befits the temple of God and her own 
station, she moves gently with stately dignity up the 
middle aisle to her pew, and kneels like a beautiful 
white-haired saint, prayer-book and rosary in hand, 
her two blooming daughters at her side, equally 
attentive if not quite so devout, and her handsome 
son, six feet tall, an " honor man" from Georgetown 
College, kneels at the end of* the pew, and cons 
devoutly the little prayer-book which he has used 
since he was a boy. The whole family are a source 
of edification to the parish. They remain kneeling 
for a few moments after Mass, perhaps to say some 
prayers for the dear ones in Calvary cemetery, or 
for the special intentions of the living; and they 
generally pass Mrs. Stiles, who resides near them, on 
their way home. 

And Mr. Creighton, the millionaire banker, is 
another one who acts in the house of God as if he 
loved to be there, and was in no haste to leave it. 
And far down near the rear of the side aisle can 
usually be found a little old woman who walks with a 
crutch, and who has worked since she was fifteen in 
a factory. Sunday is a holy day as well as a holi- 
day with her. Near her, in blooming contrast, is Miss 
Hammersly, a handsome young woman who has 
charge of a department in a shop under Mr. Stiles ; 
she, too, is given to lingering for a little visit before 
the Tabernacle after the crowd has gone. Several 



8 The People of Our Parish 

youths would like to walk home with her, but she 
prefers the society of " Granny " Byrnes, and the 
heartfelt ** God bless you, my child," at parting. 
And she knows that in the afternoon the young 
men will find their way to her mother's flat. 

And among others who are seen to leave the 
church last are the devout Sodality girls, with a tiny 
pin of the Sacred Heart somewhere visible about 
their persons; Mrs. McMahon, the happy mother of 
a priest and two nuns; and Mrs. Burke, a widow, 
who tries to imitate the virtues of her patron, Saint 
Petronilla. And gently on his way goes a serene 
old man, once given up for dead on the battle-field, 
who breathes his gratitude in Holy Communion 
every Sunday morning for many favors. Close 
behind these come Mrs. McGrath and her cousin, a 
clever woman who teaches, earnestly discussing the 
sermon. 

In the crowd ahead of them is the young man who 
never listens to the sermon, and who could not even 
give a synopsis of the gospel of the day ten minutes 
after he has left the church ; and the old man who 
reads his prayer-book when the priest is preaching ; 
and the woman who studies the fashions during that 
precious harvest-time. 

** Father Ryan is so prosy, and he says the same 
things over and over again, — things that I have 
known since I was a child," said a young woman to 
a beautiful elderly one ; and she ought to have been 
crushed by the quiet answer : ^^ I have been hearing 
sermons on nearly every Sunday of my life for fifty 
years, and never yet have I heard one that did not 



Sunday at Noon 9 

contain something edifying, something that I had 
not known, or some point worthy of serious thought. 
I always try to fancy that it is one of the Apostles 
standing before me — and is not every priest a suc- 
cessor of the inspired twelve? Whatever may be 
the manner of a priest, or his oratory or diction, the 
matter is sure to be the teaching of our Saviour; he 
preaches the gospel, or some truth of religion, not 
as he himself might look at it, but as the great theo- 
logians and doctors of the Church have elucidated 
and made plain the meaning. Father Ryan to-day 
preaches the same gospel that Saint Ambrose thun- 
dered forth in Milan so many centuries ago, and 
which touched the stubborn soul of the worldly, im- 
pious Augustine, and started him on the road to 
being a saint himself. In conversation one may 
sometimes find reason to dissent from a priest, but 
when he ascends the pulpit he is there as the 
authorized teacher. I have never yet found one 
who could not teach me." 

The provocation excused this rather stinging 
reproof. 

Whilst on the subject of sermons it might be well 
to remember that psychologists claim there is 
nothing so pernicious to the mind as to hear, with- 
out heeding, a sermon or lecture. They declare that 
if the habit of letting the mind wander away from 
the discourse, coming back fitfully, taking in a word 
or sentence here and there, if persisted in, will in 
time weaken the intellect and impair the memory. 
Far better, they declare, not to be present at all, if 
one cannot compel the mind to follow the chain of 



I o The People of Our Parish 

argument. Hence, if regard for one's own soul is 
not strong enough to secure close attention to the 
sermon, consideration for one's mind and memory- 
may have more weight. 

Mrs. MilHson objects to her pastor's denuncia- 
tions of dancing, as being old-fashioned and uncalled- 
for, and Miss Miilison shudders at his flat ^'s, and 
his accent, and Mr. Miilison dislikes the sermons 
because they are too long, and thinks that the 
bishop ought to forbid his priests to preach longer 
than fifteen minutes on any subject; for the Milli- 
sons are a contentious race. 

But there is little Miss Armstrong, who drinks in 
every word, and goes home to enter the most strik- 
ing points of the discourse in her note-book ; and she 
can give you a resume of the sermons she heard ten 
years ago. Her practice is the dear delight of 
psychologists who claim that it is the infallible way 
to be mentally strong; but she does not do it for 
that purpose. And the heart that has had its Cal- 
vary finds something inexpressibly sweet in the 
words of the priest; the man of the world wakes 
to a bitter sense of the nothingness of the aims that 
have ruled his life; and his wife, who has struggled 
up the social ladder, wonders if the game after all 
has been quite '' worth the candle." 

It is the old story, as old as the gospel, and as 
true to-day of the people who go to St. Paul's as it 
was of the multitude assembled to listen to the 
greatest Teacher of all : *^ When a great crowd was 
gathered together, and they hastened to Him out of 
the cities, He spake by a similitude : The sower 



Sunday at Noon 1 1 

went out to sow his seed. As he sowed some fell 
by the wayside, and it was trodden down, and the 
birds of the air ate it up. And some fell on the 
rock, and as soon as it had sprung up, it withered 
away because it had no moisture. And some fell 
among thorns, and the thorns, growing up with it, 
choked it. And some fell on good ground and 
sprang up, and yielded fruit a hundredfold. Say- 
ing these things He cried out: He who hath ears 
to hear let him hear. And His disciples asked Him 
what this parable might be? And He said to them : 
To you it is given to know the mystery of the King- 
dom of God ; but to the rest in parables, that seeing, 
they may not see, and hearing they may not under- 
stand. Now the parable is this : The seed is the 
word of God. And those by the wayside are 
they who hear; then the devil cometh and taketh 
the word out of their hearts, lest believing they 
should be saved. Now those upon the rock are 
they who, when they hear, receive the word with joy; 
and these have no root : for they believe for a while, 
and in time of temptation they fall away. And that 
which fell among the thorns are they who, when 
they have heard go forth and are choked with cares 
and riches and pleasures of life, and bring no fruit to 
maturity. But that on the good ground are they 
who in good and excellent heart, hearing the word 
of God, retain it, and bring forth fruit in patience.'* 

Oh, yes, there are many pious souls in our parish ; 
else where would be the consolation of the zealous 
priests who are in charge? 



1 2 The People of Our Parish 

The crowds melt away, some going swiftly in 
luxurious carriages, for the admirable English cus- 
tom of walking to church, no matter how many car- 
riages at one's command, does not obtain here; the 
dwellers in Mayfair Park walk leisurely in the direc- 
tion of that aristocratic thoroughfare, and the 
dwellers in Strawberry Lane go the opposite w^ay. 
The rich, the moderately well-off, the comfortably 
poor, the hard-working poor, the abjectly poor, are 
grouped together in the vestibule of the edifice, but 
part at the corner. 

For our parish is in a transition stage, and the 
transit has lasted for a quarter of a century. When 
the church was dedicated it was in the aristocratic 
suburb of the city, and Maple Place was the fau- 
bourg of fashion. Ten years later the mansions 
were boarding-houses, and now trade has invaded 
them, and one can buy salt herring in the very room 
in which Mrs. Chatrand w^as married. The limits 
of the parish held no poor people then ; they hold 
any number of them now. We have all classes in 
our parish, and in that it is typical of the Church 
itself. 



II 

THE SOCIAL SIDE 

^' ONAKES in Ireland ! '' promptly interrupts the 

1^ Old Member of the parish. '* Catholics 
seem to delight in holding aloof from one another 
in social matters as a sort of variety from holding 
together in matters of faith." 

** Are n't you a little severe?'* answered Mrs. 
Driscoll, gently taking the cudgels from less able 
hands. ** I have known instances of very delight- 
ful social circles made up almost exclusively of 
Catholics.'' 

** Not in this parish," was the ready and peppery 
answer. 

" The question is rather too big to be kept in 
parish limits ; besides, there is nothing to cavil 
at in social exclusiveness if it is founded on the 
right principles. The Church is the great ship in 
which we get to heaven, — prince and peasant, mil- 
lionaire and pauper alike; it is not a social organi- 
zation intended for the furtherance of pink teas 
and afternoon receptions. The Church is universal, 
and being so you cannot amalgamate its members 
into one social body — using 'social' in its society 
sense, and not as a writer on political economy 
would use it — ■ unless you do away with the different 
grades of society. And to argue this point is get- 



14 The People of Our Parish 

ting into an entirely different field. Marie Antoi- 
nette and the maid who brushed her hair were both 
Catholics, but that was hardly a reason why the 
queen should ask the maid to dine with her.'* 

'* Oh, that is going to the extreme, the reductio 
ad absurdunty as the Latinists would say. All that 
I contend for is a little kindly recognition from 
Catholics of other Catholics in their own neighbor- 
hood. A Catholic family might move into this par- 
ish, take a pew, and live here five years, the woman 
a nice, pious, refined little body, and never get to 
know the woman whose pew is immediately in front 
of hers. But let that same woman, or one just like 
her, join Dr. Harvey's church, for instance, and 
in less than six months she has made a very pleas- 
ant circle of acquaintances ; the minister's wife has 
been to call on her, and the wives of some of the 
prominent members ; she has been invited to after- 
noon receptions, where she gets to know other 
women, and before six months are over she is prob- 
ably giving receptions of her own." 

'' I grant all that. Dr. Harvey himself gave the 
key to the social side in his church. He boasted, 
if one may use that swelling term in speaking of 
a minister, — asserted with self-satisfied compla- 
cency, — that he had only the best people in his 
church. ' We don't cater to any other class.' I 
heard him use those very words. * It hampers the 
work of the church to mix classes.' Now what do 
you think of that on the lips of a man who claims 
to be the disciple of the dear Saviour who was born 
in a stable, and who cast His lot among the poor 



The Social Side 1 5 

and the lowly? Fancy Father Ryan's saying : ' We 
don't want any but the best people in St. Paul's. 
Let the working classes and the very poor go down 
to the Bethel Mission ! They ruin our carpets with 
their dirty shoes, and their personal habits are offen- 
sive to delicately bred senses.' " 

**That is hardly fair. You are getting beyond 
anything that I meant," answered the Old Mem- 
ber. ** No Catholic wants that sort of exclusive- 
ness, and no one expects the Bank president's wife 
to ask to her home the wife of her butcher, her 
baker, or her candlestick-maker, simply because 
they kneel at the same altar. But why should Mrs. 
President hold aloof from Mrs. Cashier, and Mrs. 
Cashier look askance at Mrs. Teller, waiting for 
some other woman to give the cachet to the stranger? 
A cultured, educated woman can hardly be ex- 
pected to take up socially a woman who is neither, 
but where the two are apparently on the same plane 
what is the object in waiting?" 

" I concede that there is a lack of the kindly 
social spirit among Catholics," said Mrs. Driscoll. 
** There are many causes which go to produce this 
effect. In the United States we are in a sad 
minority — " 

'' That depends on how you look at it," responded 
the Old Member, '^f you divide the population 
according to religions, Catholics, Methodists, Pres- 
byterians, Jews, we are in a tremendous majority." 

** For social purposes the division is between 
Catholic and non-Catholic, everything being fish 
that goes into the other net. Starting with the 



1 6 The People of Our Parish 

numerical minority, we are in even a more pro- 
nounced social minority. There never has been 
a time nor a community where there were not 
prominent Catholics, but the preponderance of cul- 
ture in the United States has been on the side of 
non-Cathohcs. Protestant churches as a rule, like 
Dr. Harvey's, do not number the poor among their 
fold. This being so, it follows that the highest 
society has a Protestant tone, and Catholics with 
social ambitions are not slow to recognize this 
fact. In a few cities Catholics lead, — Baltimore, 
St. Louis, New Orleans, for example; but in the 
many they only follow. Again, the Catholic matron, 
with social aspirations, wishes to be considered 
* broad-minded,' and * liberal,' and she makes a 
show of her * liberality ' by cutting adrift from 
Catholic surroundings, * Really, I hardly know any 
Catholics. I see them at church, of course, but 
our friends are mostly among Protestants,' she says, 
as if the fact were to her credit." 

** I don't see why a question of religion should 
be taken into consideration in society," said young 
Mrs. Shoreham. '' We go into society to enjoy 
ourselves, to mingle with those congenial to us. If 
a man can dance well my pleasure in dancing with 
him would not be increased by the knowledge that 
he had been to Mass on Sunday. If a woman has a 
beautiful home and gives charming entertainments, 
I shall not question what her creed may be if she is 
gracious enough to ask me to her parties. Her re- 
ligion IS her affair, just as mine is no concern of 
hers." 



The Social Side 17 

'* Up to a certain point, I grant your argument 
is sound," admitted Mrs. DriscoU. '' But there is 
another side; if CathoHc young people have no 
chance to meet other CathoHcs they will inevitably 
marry non-Catholics, and that is a very positive evil, 
as even the most frivolous-minded will admit; 
again, a constant non-Catholic, and often irreligious 
atmosphere will, in time, take off the fine edge of 
faith, chill the ardor of devotion, cast a pall over its 
most beautiful practices. 

** We have been in the minority so long that we 
have become accustomed to taking a subordinate 
place, relegating everything Catholic to obscurity, 
and we do not assert ourselves where we could do 
so with credit. Catholic writers, painters, musi- 
cians, receive no recognition from Catholics until 
their genius has been heralded by the outside 
world. Catholic periodicals are not adequately 
supported. A Methodist or a Presbyterian sub- 
scribes for his denominational paper, and is not 
slow to quote from its columns, but the lukewarm 
Catholic is contented to get the distorted and 
meagre news of his church as given in the daily 
press.'' 

" The truth is that we Catholics here in the 
United States are a body of snobs," put in Adele 
Norrison, a young lady of much independence of 
character, and a pronounced independence of 
tongue. ** The majority are descended from immi- 
grants of too recent importation to have become 
the aristocrats. There are exceptions, of course, 
everywhere, of the well-born, the well-bred, the 



i8 The People of Our Parish 

hereditarily wealthy; but the mass of our rich 
men are self-made, or the sons of self-made fathers. 
We are human just like the rest of the world, and 
snobbishness is a very human trait." 

'' Oh, as for that, the American aristocracy gen- 
erally is very new," murmured Mrs. Driscoll, her- 
self the great-great-granddaughter of a Catholic 
officer in the Revolution, whose father was a 
younger son of a Domesday-book family which 
had kept the old faith amidst centuries of persecu- 
tion. She can afford to be humble. 

'* The social minority of Catholics here is an 
accident of geography. In Europe the aristocracy 
is Catholic," said Mrs. Shoreham. 

*' My dear child," said Mrs. Driscoll, '*the poor, 
the hard-working, the ignorant, are the majority 
the world over, without regard to religion. It is 
our glory, and not our shame, that these find 
spiritual haven in the Universal Church. 

^' In the United States, Catholics are ten millions in 
a population of seventy millions, or one in seven, let 
us say. Granting that progress has been equal 
among Catholics and non-Catholics, there would be 
in the dominant circle of a community but one 
CathoHc magnate to seven of other creeds or no 
creed, — not quite sixty in the glorious Four Hun- 
dred ; and sixty are hardly a match in power for the 
remaining three hundred and forty." 

*' For my part, I think that the most reasonable 
plan is the one we have adopted, — to bury the 
question of religion when it comes to society," 
chirped Mrs. Shoreham. 



The Social Side 19 

'* But that does not dispose of my original plea 
that Catholics of position might be a little kinder to 
other Catholics, following in this respect the ex- 
ample of their fellow-Protestants/* answered the Old 
Member. 

** Now, there is Mrs. Armand Dale." Everybody 
looked interested at the mention of this name, 
for Mrs. Dale is the Jersey cream of aristocracy. 
'* Some few years ago Father Dugan suggested to 
her to call on Mrs. Richard Marsden with a view to 
enlisting the Marsden aid in a charity just then the 
fad among fashionable Catholics. * She is rich and 
generous, and could do a great deal for you if so 
disposed,' explained the priest. But the great Mrs. 
Dale, who could afford to be frank, said, * Father, 
you know I can't call on her, or recognize her 
socially. She may be a very worthy person, but 
nobody knows her, and one cannot force people 
like that on one's friends.' She did not call, and St. 
Leo's hospital was a thousand dollars the worse off. 
But the Marsdens had money, and they were con- 
stantly getting more money at an enormous rate; 
they also had children, and these children went East 
to school, and to Europe, and they were speedily 
developing into the fine flower of American aris- 
tocracy. Before long Mrs. Luther Torrington, whose 
husband had business dealings with Mr. Marsden, 
and who is quite as big a magnate as Mrs. Dale, in- 
vited Mrs. Marsden to head the list of the ladies 
assisting her at a large reception. Mr. and Mrs. 
Marsden were met at other exclusive houses, and it 
was not long until Mrs. Dale was very glad to know 



20 The People of Our Parish 

them. But the golden opportunity had been lost. 
The Marsdens had come into their kingdom through 
Protestant influence, when the old Catholic circle 
would have none of them, and Protestant their circle 
remained. To-day they are, socially, far ahead of 
Mrs. Dale, but their friends are principally among 
the great ones beyond the pale of their own faith/' 

*' It is never well to be too quick to take up new 
people," said Mrs. Shoreham. 

*' No, nor is it ever well to be too slow about tak- 
ing them up," answered Miss Norrison. 

'^ It is a mistake to expect a woman just on the 
border-land of good society to help another woman 
just outside the border. She would let the stars fall 
first. It is a good plan to ask no social favors of 
any one, but if you must, always go to the woman 
who is so well-placed that she can do as she pleases 
without stopping to think how any other woman 
might regard her act. An example in point: At 
Newport a few seasons ago, there was a young girl, 
a Catholic, with a glorious voice and great personal 
beauty. She was desirous of gaining a footing as a 
concert singer, and her pastor, who knew many of 
the cottage set, tried to enlist a prominent Catholic 
matron in behalf of his protegee. * I can't take up a 
girl like that,' she said rather impatiently. But Mrs. 
Mortimore, an Episcopalian, thought that she could 
'take up' whom she pleased; and all society, in- 
cluding the exclusive Catholic, came together in her 
drawing-room to hear the young singer. Not only 
that, but so charmed was she with the girl that a 
great manager was summoned to her house in New 



The Social Side 21 

York to try the voice of the candidate, — with the 
result that the girl is now earning something like 
ten thousand dollars a year; and rumor has it that 
she has only to say the word to become a very great 
personage on her own account as the wife of one of 
the jeu7tesse doree of Gotham." 

** That reminds me of a rather amusing experience 
of a friend of mine," said Mrs. Shoreham. '' My 
heroine is a writer who is fast gaining an honorable 
place in literature, — a girl who belongs to a nice 
family, and who received a convent education. She 
was asked by the editor of a Catholic magazine to 
send him something for his periodical. Happening 
soon after to go to a city where a reading circle had 
just been established under the wing of a prominent 
convent, and being an enthusiastic believer in the 
work of reading-circles, it occurred to her that an 
article on the one just started would be timely and 
interesting. She called on the superior of the con- 
vent, known to a relative of hers, and explained her 
idea. She received a cordial invitation to be present 
at the next meeting of the circle, and to be intro- 
duced to the leader, and get some further infor- 
mation. The girl happened to be late, and was 
escorted by the superior to the door of the assem- 
bly room after the exercises had begun. She met 
the reception of the uninvited intruder, not one 
woman present so much as speaking to her, and the 
leader, whom she was prepared to herald to the 
world as a great intellectual force in the city, hur- 
ried away without even a nod. The article was not 
written." 



22 The People of Our Parish 

'' It IS the little things like those that cool 
one's ardor in a good cause," commented the Old 
Member. 

^^ Now, of course every woman has the right to 
be as exclusive as she wishes, or as exclusive as she 
can, — not always the same thing ; it is her privilege 
to select her friends where she likes, and among 
those most congenial to her tastes. No sensible 
person expects the well-born, well-bred, well-placed 
woman to make a friend of one who is none of these 
things. 

'' But the problem I should really like to see solved 
is this : how is a woman who possesses these qual- 
ities in a greater or a less degree, who comes a 
stranger into a city, to get to know other women of 
the same kind? 

** She rents a pew in her parish church, but her 
sister Catholics do not trouble themselves to call 
until she has established herself socially ; then they 
are glad enough to recognize her as belonging to 
them. If she joins any of the parish societies she 
does not meet the people of her own class, and she 
does not care for social intercourse with the wives 
of saloon-keepers or policemen." 

*' You are too severe again. You forget that Mrs. 
Dale is the president of our altar society." 

*^ The altar society is an exception, I admit. The 
social leaders do belong to it, but that is only be- 
cause there is no social intercourse among its mem- 
bers. You might belong to the St. Paul's altar 
society ninety-nine years, and never be asked to 
Mrs. Dale's receptions. She will use your fingers, 



The Social Side 23 

and your brains if you have any, but you must look 
to Heaven and not to Mrs. Dale to reward you/' 

*^ If a woman joins because she wants any reward 
from Mrs. Dale her low motive deserves to be 
punished." 

'* That is not the question. We are getting at 
facts. In the various sodalities do you find any of 
the * upper classes ' of the parish represented? In 
the Married Women's, the Young Ladies', the 
Young Men's? Do you?" 

** So much the worse, then, for the married 
women, the girls and their brothers. I can't see 
why it is beneath their budding importance to be- 
long to the societies of their parish, any more than 
to go to Mass with the people of their parish. If 
they want to be consistent they should build and 
endow a little marble chapel with gilt trimmings 
and Russian-leather missals for their private use, 
with a priest who has the Oxford brogue to cele- 
brate Mass for them." 

" Mrs. Dale says, * You can't expect me to belong 
to a sodality with my own cook as a member, and 
who might be elected my superior officer;' and 
young Robert Dale says, * I can't be expected to 
join the society, you know, with the sons of my 
father's workmen for companions.' " 

**What about the Reading Circle?" queried the 
voice of the Old Member. 

*'That is of too recent origin to have taken a 
definite place. Naturally the people belonging to 
that must have some little culture, or they could not 
keep up with the work. But I venture to say that 



24 The People of Our Parish 

Helen Dale's name is not on the list of membership, 
nor Mrs. Dale's, nor Robert Dale's/' 

** Oh, hang the Dales ! " interrupted Mrs. DriscoU's 
young nephew, who had just come in from St. 
Xavier's College. 

'* We have indulged in a lot of talk, but what have 
we proved, or what have we tried to prove? " asked 
Mrs. Shoreham. *' We admit that the majority of 
the people belonging to the Church are socially not 
desirable, because the great body of humanity are 
not so. A hundred years from now, it is safe to say, 
the ruling class will be Catholic, but we still have 
that intervening hundred years before us." 

** Candor/' answered Mrs. Driscoll, '^ compels one 
to admit that many of the Catholics we meet casually 
at watering-places and at church festivals, when we 
condescend to go to festivals, are people we should 
not care espcially to know. They have vulgar man- 
ners, are ignorant, ill-bred, just as others are who 
have come up from the ranks, and have not suc- 
ceeded in coming very far. It is not a matter of 
their religion, but of themselves personally." 

*^ But I do not admit," interrupted Miss Norrison, 
*^ that Catholic society is one whit inferior to Protes- 
tant society, taken in numerical proportion. If you 
want to put the question of society on a religious 
basis, where distinctly it does not belong. Catholic 
society is, and has always been, the best in the 
world. For a thousand years there was no other 
kind in Europe. And to-day you find Catholic 
representatives in all circles; the aristocracy of 
Austria, France, Italy, and Spain, of Brazil, Chili, 



The Social Side 25 

Mexico, and the rest of the Spanish-American 
countries, about which we knew so httle until Mr. 
Richard Harding Davis taught us a great deal, is 
exclusively Catholic. 

** In Germany a Catholic is prime minister, and 
a number of the old noble families are Catholic ; 
in England Catholics are found in all ranks, from 
dukes down, and they are not among British 
royalty only because the British Constitution for- 
bids it. In New York you find Catholics among 
the leaders of that magical (or mythical) Four 
Hundred ; the same is true of Washington, and 
even of Quaker Philadelphia. You cannot show a 
single city of importance in the United States where 
there are not Catholics of wealth, position, and 
culture. 

" And every day we are receiving additions from 
the flower of Protestant aristocracy ; people of 
the highest intelligence and culture join the Catholic 
Church, often at a sacrifice of all earthly prospects. 
Thirty thousand converts were officially reported 
last year. And England is keeping pace with 
us. Two weeks ago the * London Tablet ' gave 
the names of three noblemen who 'went over to 
Rome ' in a single week, and were among those con- 
firmed by the English Cardinal. And yet people 
talk about the lack of culture among Catholics ! 
Just look at the prominent and historic Ameri- 
can families that have given converts to the 
Church. Among the number are immediate mem- 
bers or near connections of the families of Presidents 
Madison, Monroe, Van Buren, Tyler, Grant; of 



26 The People of Our Parish 

Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, General Winfield 
Scott, Edward Everett, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Gen- 
eral Newton, Admiral Dahlgren, Jefferson Davis — 
why, there was a list of converts covering eight pages 
in the * Catholic Quarterly Review,' compiled by the 
Honorable Richard H. Clark, and it did not pretend 
to be exhaustive; it included bishops, rectors of 
rich parishes, representative names of the army, 
navy, law, literature, medicine, science, society, 
finance. 

** When people of that stamp become Catholic, 
and usually, if not always, at a great personal 
sacrifice, it ought to make intelligent non-Catholics 
gravely thoughtful. And the more so since they 
cannot recall a parallel among Catholics who have 
become Protestant. Their converts from us are 
women who gave up their faith to marry men 
that do not care enough for them to take them with- 
out this sacrifice; unfortunate priests who have 
been degraded and removed from their parishes; 
and poorly instructed, nominal Catholics who see a 
chance for worldly prosperity in embracing a popu- 
lar creed.'' 

** It is not necessary to be so complacent about 
it," said the Old Member. 

** It is the grace of God and not the exertions of 
individual Catholics that brings about this result. 
We do little enough to make converts, and we treat 
them shamefully after their conversion. Their old 
friends turn against them, and Catholics pay them 
little attention, unless for some special reason, so 
they usually have rather a sad time. I knew a 



The Social Side 27 

prominent minister who became a Catholic, relin- 
quishing a fine position, and his own wife and chil- 
dren deserted him. Another young clergyman was 
disinherited by his father — but it is a pathetic tale 
to the end. 

** However Catholics may treat one another in the 
way of a * letting alone,' surely common decency and 
honor, to say nothing of charity, ought to make 
them extend a helping hand to converts. 

** Brotherly Love is one of the gifts of the Holy 
Ghost received in Confirmation ; it seems to be the 
one we part with the most readily. 

*' A Catholic woman will spend the entire day in 
relieving the wants of a poverty-stricken family .in a 
tenement, and in the evening at a party freeze 
another woman with a Klondike stare. If she had 
real kindliness in her heart she would not begrudge 
the pleasant word, the bright smile, that might be 
gratefully received by the lonely stranger; and if 
she were sure of her own title to recognition she 
would have no need to dole out courtesy as if it 
were South African diamonds." 

The Old Member was evidently reminiscent. The 
stabs had left little scars. We have much to learn. 
In the meanwhile we are but sixty to three hundred 
and forty. 



Ill 

WEDDING CARDS 

PHIL CARLETON was married this morning. 
The wedding itself, in dear old St. Paul's, was 
at ten o'clock, or not much after that, but the 
festivities extended so far into the afternoon that 
one feels it is not worth while to begin anything 
of importance in the small piece of the day that is 
left.. Besides, weddings are rather fatiguing, and 
this was no exception. 

It might be courtesy to state that he married 
Annie Powers, but that is a mere detail ; the thing of 
real importance is that Phil himself is at last married. 
It is like the morning of a lottery — at least, there is 
to be no more anxious expectancy; the fortunate 
prize-winner, happy with the prize, is known, and the 
losers, relieved of all uncertainty, can put their minds 
to other matters. One feels rather sorry for the 
half-dozen — the exact number does not matter — 
sweet, pretty girls any one of whom Phil might have 
married. In his own secret soul he must have 
realized this fact and have been egregiously con- 
ceited. There is no denying that there are many 
reasons why a nice girl would be very glad to marry 
Phil, granting that she consciously or unconsciously 
wanted to marry anybody. He is upright and 
honorable, really, and not merely as a flattering 



Wedding Cards 29 

phrase which journaHsts, in the role of biographers, 
are wont to apply indiscriminatery. He is college- 
bred, cultured, good-looking, frank, amiable, witty, 
and, not the least quality to be considered in a 
material world, rich. Indeed, not a few mothers, in 
casting their longing eyes on Phil in behalf of a 
daughter, have put this qualification first. Phil is 
the junior member of a large shoe-factory, his 
father being the senior member, and Phil is an only 
son. Besides tKeir money the Carletons are socially 
quite as important as the best of the city. Family 
portraits of dead and gone ancestors line the walls 
of their beautiful mansion in Warwick Place, and 
every student of human nature knows that one does 
not care to be daily reminded of an ancestor unless 
he is quite worth remembering. 

And Mrs. Carleton herself must feel relieved. 
She may have reservations as to the entire worthi- 
ness of Annie Powers to be the wife of her son ; but 
she has the comforting assurance that, taking all 
things into consideration, Annie has no superiors 
and few equals among the maidens of her set. No 
one, except her guardian angel, will ever know just 
how many girls Madame Mere kept out of the 
honor which was conferred by a Bishop, and three 
assistants in gorgeous vestments, on blushing Annie. 

The engagement was something of a surprise to 
the gay world, for little Miss Powers of all the girls 
in society seemed to care the least about handsome 
Phil. Perhaps that was the very reason why she 
won him; her indifference may have whetted his 
desire of possession. This is not a new theory, and 



30 The People of Our Parish 

in some cases I should be inclined to doubt its 
entire trustworthiness. Some men are repelled by 
indifference, it hurts their vanity; and vanity is the 
strongest weak point in the masculine armor. That 
is intended neither as a paradox nor a pun. 

Marion Chase w^as at the wedding, looking very 
beautiful in a Reilly gown of blue cloth trimmed 
in sable. When one is near her it is easy to detect 
the network of fine wrinkles which are doing their 
deadly work to her marvellous complexion, and 
there is a weary droop about the mouth when she 
thinks no one is looking. I confess to a curious 
desire to know her feelings when Phil slipped the 
wedding-ring on another woman's finger. She must 
have known that two-thirds of the people present 
were wondering as to her sentiments. She certainly 
tried hard enough to win Phil; that sounds brutal, 
for truth is not always courteous ; but it is hard to 
say whether her heart or only her ambition was 
engaged in the pursuit. Maud Carleton, without 
meaning it, gave the key to the failure. She said, 
in my hearing, at the races, that Marion always 
made her think of a woman without a soul. ** That 
girl would die a willing martyr to appearances," she 
exclaimed, not maliciously, but thoughtlessly. I 
am afraid that we all agreed that her judgment was 
not unjust. 

Three summers ago all the gossips at Narragan- 
sett Pier were sure that Phil and Lucy Morris would 
announce their engagement before the season was 
over. And I think that the young man really was 
attracted in that quarter; but a fond mother had 



Wedding Cards 31 

used her eyes and her ears, and a word dropped 
now and then, without any apparent object over and 
above mere gossip, in the privacy of the family, 
made Phil pause and consider. There was nothing 
absolutely reprehensible in Lucy's conduct, but she 
was what is described as ** larky." For instance, she 
went to Point Judith one moonlight night on a hay- 
ride, and Maud Carleton, who was along without her 
mother's consent, declared that a Mr. Bertrand 
from Providence had put his arm around Lucy's 
waist during the ride home. Then she was not in 
the least particular about the young men who were 
introduced to her. Almost any man, if he could 
dance well, and had decent manners and a dress-coat, 
could get to know Lucy. Her bathing-suits were 
always the most conspicuous on the beach, and they 
showed rather more of arms and neck than a 
modest girl would like to expose to gaping crowds 
watching from Sherry's pavilion. And she was 
rather given to tete-a-tetes in secluded corners, with 
the various young men sojourning at the big hotel 
which sheltered the Morrises ; and she went driving 
alone with these same young men, in the very faces 
of matrons who believed in the chaperon as firmly 
as they believed in the Ten Commandments. In a 
foolish moment she admitted, rather boastingly 
some thought, that she had been engaged once and 
had refused four men. A girl of really fine feeling 
will not let a man come to the proposing point if 
she does not mean to accept what he offers. And 
there were other things in the air about Lucy; 
and no man likes a peach with the bloom off, no 



32 The People of Our Parish 

matter how beautiful and luscious the peach. Phil 
Carleton suddenly left the Pier and went fishing off 
Block Island. 

Minnie Jones fell violently in love with Phil, but I 
rather think he was disgusted at the start. Minnie 
is of the gushingly sentimental order, and no 
healthy-minded young man can be blamed for run- 
ning away from a girl like that. She is thoroughly 
selfish without knowing it, as people of that type 
are apt to be ; she could not bear anything that was 
painful, because of her delicate sensibilities, and as 
pain must be met and grappled with in an imper- 
fect world, Miss Minnie was given to throwing her 
share on braver shoulders. And she read novels of 
the tawdrily sentimental kind, and called them liter- 
ature, and fancied herself of the type of the mushy 
heroines depicted. The girl had not been fortunate 
in choosing her mother, for Mrs. Jones was almost 
as big a fool as her daughter, — the kind one sees 
with bleached hair and very low gown, sitting on a 
red divan at a party, and talking violent scandal to 
her neighbor. To add to her silly birthright, the 
girl was sent to a school under the supervision of 
another fool, the mercenary fool, who inculcated 
in her girls that the first duty of woman is to marry 
money and position, the whole duty of a schoolgirl 
to dress well, dance, and speak French, and pay her 
tuition fees promptly. 

Minnie showed what a simpleton she really was 
by fancying for a moment that she could catch such 
a man as Phil Carleton. She tried it, however, in a 
very business-like way, and so did her mother. 



Wedding Cards 33 

When Phil began to sit out dances with Kathryn 
Blair, and to be seen in Linden Avenue, where 
dwells the Juno-like maiden, the gossips were once 
more busy with his name, and really hoped that the 
couple would go to the altar together. In this 
instance I think it was brains that intervened. 
Kathryn is quite the most brilliant young woman in 
her set to-day, and I think her superior knowledge 
rather hurt her suitor's vanity. She was too young, 
and too candid by nature to cultivate the tact that 
would openly defer to masculine judgment, whilst 
secretly adhering to her own. 

I have always been very fond of Kathryn ; she is 
a type of that which is fine and high in what the 
thoughtless are apt to speak of as the ** new woman/' 
In that senseless phrase some imply a compliment, 
and some a reproach ; but no one could know 
Kathryn without being struck by something noble 
which was reflected from her soul to her expressive 
face. She has been carefully educated, first under 
a thorough gentlewoman at home, whom misfor- 
tune had forced into the workaday world as a 
governess, and later at Manhattanville. After her 
graduation she went abroad for a year, and on her 
return home took up a course of alarmingly solid 
reading, under a professor from the University. 

She is somewhat lacking in what are called the 
womanly accomplishments ; that is, she cannot work 
sprawling roses on a bit of linen, nor make over a 
gown to be as good as new with ten cents' worth of 
ruby dyes, like the thrifty women in the advertise- 
ments, and she has few ideas about cooking, and 

3 



34 The People of Our Parish 

the relation of food to the soul ; indeed, she star- 
tled us all by reading a paper before the Monday 
Club, an organization to which some twenty favored 
feminines belong, in which she proved triumphantly 
that in all the branches which are popularly con- 
ceded to be the domain of women, men have won 
the highest place. It left us in '' rather a hole '' as 
one put it, inelegantly, because she did not prove 
that women have ever excelled in anything; but 
then, that was not in her subject. 

Kathryn is pretty, too, almost beautiful, and a 
superb dresser — quite the equal of Marion in that 
respect. I cannot see why a man would look twice 
at Annie Powers when he might have looked for a 
lifetime at Kathryn Blair. Not that Annie is not 
a charming little thing, really a dear, sweet girl. 
If one had to classify her, although classifications 
are never quite satisfactory nor quite just, one would 
put her among the domestic, homelike women. 
Annie can do all the things that Kathryn cannot 
do ; she is dainty and pretty, and sweet-tempered, 
well-bred, naturally refined ; and not a fool, by any 
means, in the line of books and the doings of the 
world. She has a sympathetic little voice, and it is 
easy to fancy Phil, lazy Phil, after dinner, with a 
cigar, an easy-chair, and the evening paper, listen- 
ing to Annie sing his favorite songs. 

In the mating of our friends we are never dis- 
posed to allow sufficiently for difference in tastes. 
The ideal spouse for one would be a sort of lifelong 
purgatory for another. Sometimes we get sorrow- 
ful glimpses of a mismating. Five years ago, when 



Wedding Cards 35 

Mary Burke married the ex-alderman, Richard 
Nolan, known as ** Dick" to his intimates, before the 
altar in St. Paul's, but without the grandeur attend- 
ing the nuptials of Miss Annie Powers, everybody 
thought it was more than a glimpse. The Honor- 
able Dick is what is known as a self-made man, and 
he had performed the work of making himself 
rather badly. It was the old melodramatic situation 
which, unfortunately, exists in life as well, — an 
ambitious mother, poverty, a beautiful young girl, 
refined and innocent and just out of a convent, on 
one side ; and an elderish man, commonplace, rather 
coarse, but with a fortune and in want of a wife, on 
the other. 

A girl does not always object to a man merely 
because he is old, provided he is not too old, nor 
to a fortune either. A man may be rather well 
along in life and very rich, and yet charming, fascin- 
ating, brilliant, heroic. It would not be hard to find 
love matches, that proved ideally happy, when the 
bridegroom was almost old enough to be the father 
of his wife ; but, after all, these cases are only excep- 
tions. The general rule, and it is usually safe to 
follow this, declares in favor of a similarity of age. 
Beautiful Mildred Hays married General Hearne, 
who was just twenty-two years her senior, and a 
happier or more devoted couple it would be hard to 
find. But the general was a handsome, well-pre- 
served man of the great world ; a courtier in man- 
ner, a diplomat, a true gentleman, and a brave 
soldier. When an old man is conscious of uniting 
in himself all these attributes he may safely woo a 



36 The People of Our Parish 

romantic young girl ; but for an ordinary old gentle- 
man this usually ends in domestic disaster. 

There is a consensus of opinion, born of thousands 
of years of experience, that a man should be older 
than his wife. From three to fifteen years, say some, 
but hide-bound limits are not easy to define. A 
woman is supposed to love, respect, and obey 
her husband, and sometimes his superior age is 
about the only claim he can put forth to wifely sub- 
mission. Adam was older than Eve, — to give an 
example weighty by reason of antiquity, — and 
Abraham was very much the senior of the beauti- 
ful, dark-eyed Princess Sara, whom we do not suffi- 
ciently honor as the mother of the Chosen People. 

In marriage the one absolutely essential thing is 
mutual love. This is not saying that love should 
be the only thing, but nothing else, esteem, respect, 
family ties, station, learning, piety, upright charac- 
ter, no other thing in the world, should be allowed 
to take its place. The history of the human race 
conclusively proves that the love between man and 
woman is the strongest passion that exists. Like 
any other great force, it can be as powerful for 
destruction as for good. Mark Antony threw away 
an empire for a woman who had loved many men; 
Helen of Troy made the most memorable epoch in 
Grecian history; Clotilde, through her husband's 
love, was able to bring Christianity into Gaul. 

And in the realms of art, — poetry, painting, sculp- 
ture, — a woman loved, if not always loving, has 
been the most fruitful inspiration, next to religion, 
of the undying masterpieces. 



Wedding Cards 37 

Who can reckon the debt of the ages to Beatrice, 
beloved of Dante, Petrarch's beautiful Laura, or the 
Highland lass who won the heart of Burns? 

Love, when not cemented by sacramental grace, 
is apt to be as fleeting as it is uncontrolled. Henry 
Vin. put aside his faithful wife, the proud daughter 
of the proudest house in Europe, overthrew religion, 
and turned his kingdom into a seething volcano for the 
sake of the soulless, beautiful Anne Boleyn. A love 
so lawless and so shameless lasted three brief years, 
when the woman paid for it with her head. Indeed, 
the history of Henry the Bluebeard's matrimonial 
experiences has been used by more than one cynic 
to cast discredit on love. One might with as much 
reason point to a conflagration to show the evils of 
fire. 

When a man comes wooing with nothing but his 
love to recommend him, a maid's only safeguard 
from a life of unhappiness and neglect is flight, or 
strength of character to say no. If the lover is un- 
scrupulous, or irreligious, or selfish, scheming, cruel, 
or given to drink, or all these things combined, it is 
madness to expect the husband to be very different. 
There have been many cases where the love and 
prayers and hercfic patience of a noble woman have 
reclaimed a brute and made a man ; but the woman 
herself sacrificed all chance of earthly happiness in 
her work, and suff'ered tortures at which the world 
can only dimly guess. 

Despite what some novelists say, and novelists 
seem to be the world's teachers in matters of love, 
a woman who marries without love is degrading her 



38 The People of Our Parish 

own womanhood. Crawford the BrilHant is given 
to sacrificing very charming women at the altar, and 
he invariably makes a merit of the sacrifice. We 
find some palliation in our hearts for the peerless 
Corona, because she was a young girl, as ignorant 
of life as a baby, when she married the worn-out old 
roue D'Astradente, and had an interesting career in 
the four volumes of the Saracinesca series of 
novels ; but when the unfortunate Maria d' Aragona 
deliberately perjures herself at the altar, loving with 
all her heart another man, we instinctively recoil as 
from a species of suttee. 

There is no accounting for tastes, in a man's 
choice of a wife as in his choice in less important 
matters. If both young men and young women do 
not yet know how to choose wisely in the question 
of marriage, it is not because benevolent ones have 
not sufficiently instructed them, at so much a column, 
in the teeming pages of scores of periodicals. 

Perhaps it is one of those questions where theory 
counts for little, and experience for everything; 
which seems unfortunate, considering that it is 
irremediable, and being so, the experience, when it 
happens to be of the wrong sort, can serve no per- 
sonal good. '^ 

Divorce, the shameful canker that is eating at the 
heart of our country, its family honor, and domestic 
peace, can have no meaning for a Catholic. Death 
alone dissolves the marriage bond. 



IV 

AN OLD QUESTION 

AT what age should a young man marry? This 
is one of the stock questions that are asked of 
the omniscient persons who conduct the correspond- 
ents* columns of the family weeklies. The suitable 
age for a young woman to assume the responsibili- 
ties of matrimony is not often discussed, there being 
a natural delicacy around a subject in which the 
lady must remain quiescent. It is generally un- 
derstood that she will be married when a suitable 
chance presents itself. One would imagine that this 
is a point which every young man would decide 
for himself, did not the ** anxious inquirers " give a 
hint of the efforts made to get wise guidance. It is a 
question that can never be answered, because it de- 
pends on so many things which make a prudent act 
on the part of one young man the wildest folly on 
the part of another. Position, money, temperament, 
object in life, strength of character, — so many 
things go to turn the scale one way or the other. 
And when one looks about at one's friends and ac- 
quaintances the question is still as unsettled as ever. 
Some ten years ago two unknown young men 
came to this city. They filled similar positions, and 
their services received equal compensation. Chance 
threw them together in a boarding-house, and they 



40 The People of Our Parish 

became friends. Their social opportunities were 
meagre, and neither one at that time possessed such 
shining personal qualities that nice people would go 
out of their way to pay them any attention. They 
had received an ordinary commercial training, and 
knew enough of social usages to eat peas with a 
fork, but neither had ever worn an evening coat or 
led a cotillon. 

At a church festival they met a young lady, in 
charge of one of the tables, and fell instantaneous 
victims to her charms. These charms were just the 
usual ones of youth, a beautiful complexion, bright 
eyes, a natty figure, and an amiable manner. It 
was not hard to procure an invitation to call on the 
maiden, and it was soon evident that the two were 
genuinely in earnest in their attentions. The girl 
had the small accomplishments of her class: she 
could play a little on the piano, and paint a little, 
and if her knowledge of literature and science, of 
art and all the things that go to form what is meant 
by " culture," was indefinite and hazy, her piety, and 
good-nature and domestic attainments formed an 
acceptable substitute. Besides, the imagination of 
a young and ardent lover can be depended upon to 
invest the most prosaic of maidens with idyllic 
qualities. At the end of the year she accepted 
George Calkin ; and poor F ederick Gaston, bearing 
his defeat manfully, sent her a salad fork, with his 
best wishes, as a wedding present. 

The history of the Calkins in the ten years which 
have flown over their heads is not greatly different 
from the histories of the hundreds and thousands of 



An Old Question 41 

young couples of their means and attainments. The 
young man, being conscientious and faithful, has had 
his salary increased several times, but his family has 
increased as well, and he has no ambitions above a 
life of prodding industry, content if the necessaries 
and a few minor luxuries can be procured for his 
wife and children. They live in Downs Street, in 
one of the houses built on an economical scale to 
rent to young husbands with small salaries. The 
children's wants and ills, the extortions of the coal 
dealer, the butcher's bills, the antics of the gas 
metre, enliven the hours at home ; and the evening 
paper affords apparently all the intellectual diet that is 
needed or desired. Mrs. Calkin devours the society 
items, subscribes for a fashion magazine, and obtains 
numberless novels in endless succession from the 
circulating library. She had not cared for books of 
a higher class when she was pretty May Loring, 
with time for many things now quite beyond the 
reach of the wife and mother. Occasionally they 
go to the theatre, and Mrs. Calkin, sadly faded, with 
peevish lines about the eyes and the base of the 
nose, belongs to an afternoon card club made up of 
other commonplace souls. On Sunday, the one free 
day in a grinding week, George, with his wife and 
two elder children, may be seen at the eight o'clock 
Mass ; hurrying home he spends the forenoon over 
the voluminous Sunda}^ papers, an^ Mrs. Calkin 
busies herself with the usual Sunday feast, the one 
slovenly maid-of-all-work not being adequate to its 
success ; a nap, a stroll along the boulevards, a cold 
supper, and perhaps a friendly chat with a neighbor, 



42 The People of Our Parish 

and the precious day is over. No one has ever 
heard George Calkin discuss the question whether 
marriage is a failure, because he is not given greatly 
to discussion, except about the tariff; but Frederick 
Gaston looks upon him as an awful warning. 

As for young Gaston himself, he flew to literature 
and modern languages as a balm for his bruised 
affections. At the end of a year, when he encoun- 
tered the Calkins at an informal dinner, and was 
forced to listen to his old sweetheart's common- 
places, he suddenly realized with a rush of thankful- 
ness that the last tiny abrasion of his affections was 
quite healed. The star of ambition which had 
always glimmered over his meridian suddenly flamed 
into a beckoning glow. He would make a man of 
himself. He had acquired the taste and the price- 
less habit of regular study, and whatever extrava- 
gances he permitted himself were in the nature of 
opera tickets, or for the best plays, photographs of 
famous pictures, art exhibits, and books. To books, 
his landlady wrathfully thought there was to be no 
end, when they overflowed from the case and filled 
the corners of Gaston's small, third-story bedroom. 
About this time the young man, who had caught 
glimpses of an existence quite removed from that of 
a second-rate boarding-house, fitted up an apart- 
ment of his own. 

At the end of ten years he had become, from 
an unformed, good-looking youth of the provinces, 
a cultured, travelled, brainy, popular man of the 
great world. He had been abroad twice, once 
in summer, to the haunts beloved by the American 



An Old Question 43 

tourist, and a winter had been given to Egypt, 
Palestine, Greece, Turkey, and southern Italy. 
And every place of note in his own land had been 
visited. Prosperity had marked him for her own, 
and he could well afford to get married. One of 
the sweetest and prettiest girls in the parish be- 
came his bride. The wedding was celebrated in 
St. Paul's, with almost as much state as attended 
the nuptials of Annie Powers. 

The Gastons revolve in an orbit far removed from 
the modest periphery of the Calkins. And when 
Frederick Gaston glances across the well-appointed 
table at the beautiful cultured girl, capable of being 
a helpmate in its noblest sense to her husband, if he 
does not breathe a prayer of thankfulness for his es- 
cape from May Loring it is because she has passed 
so completely out of his mind that she never 
comes into it for even a reminiscent moment. 

But there are other young men belonging to St. 
Paul's who have not been so fortunate ; and if Fred- 
erick Gaston is a shining illustration of the good of 
waiting, Matt Dyer is an awful example of the young 
man who has not married at all. Matt started in 
the race of life unusually well equipped ; for he 
had family, influence, and a good position. He 
speedily took to the pace that kills, and his money 
has been spent in ways that would not bear nar- 
rating. Perhaps if he had married a pious, nice 
girl in the beginning, she might have been just the 
balance-wheel that has been lacking in his short but 
disastrous career. Again, she might have been 
dragged down to untold depths of degradation and 



44 The People of Our Parish 

want. Matt belongs nominally to St. Paul's, and 
he made his first communion in the beautiful old 
church, but it is seldom now that his form casts a 
shadow over its threshold. 

The rule might be laid down that for a man 
who lacks stability of character an early marriage 
is best; for others it is good or bad according to 
circumstances. 

There is an old saying that a young man 
married is a young man marred. 

This cynical epigram, to say the least, has many 
notable exceptions. 



V 

A GRAVE QUESTION 

" T HAVE known many instances of mixed 

X marriages/' said a silvery-haired old gentle- 
woman, with a wistful look in her still fine eyes, 
^^ and of all the number I can recall but three 
that turned out well.'' 

It is not difficult to see that in so intimate a 
relation as marriage a oneness in religion, that 
highest of all concerns, is absolutely indispensable 
to the perfect union. 

** Theoretically we all object to mixed mar- 
riages," answered Mrs. Gibson, a matron whose 
three daughters had married out of the Church; 
** but practically we realize that circumstances 
make them necessary. The Church itself under- 
stands this, else she would not grant dispensations 
so readily. And when the husband makes the 
required promises I can't see where the wrong 
comes in." 

Of course it would have been rude to say, " Look 
at your own daughters, and you might see plainly 
enough." 

When Louise Gibson became engaged to Fen- 
dall Gates her friends thought her a very lucky 
girl, and her mother's enemies said that she was a 
cleverer woman than they had imagined, to have 



46 The People of Our Parish 

landed that nice young Gates for her daughter. 
Then there came a time when the hum of busy- 
tongues indicated an ugly hitch in the preparations. 
It was said that the young man objected very em- 
phatically to making the promises. He was will- 
ing enough for his wife to practise her religion, 
since she had been brought up that way, but most 
emphatically the children should be reared Pres- 
byterians, like all the Gates since the time of the 
first Presbyterian, or else they should be left to 
choose for themselves. Mrs. Gibson bemoaned 
the indelicacy of the question, and the want of fine 
feeling on the part of her pastor which compelled 
an innocent young girl to face such a discussion; 
as if the couple were two babes in the woods chas- 
ing a rainbow. Louise was pluckily firm, and Fen- 
dall, who really was very much in love with her, 
saw that he must either give up the girl or yield, 
and finally consented to marry a Gatholic on the 
only terms a Gatholic could marry him. 

Louise is perhaps doing the best she can for her- 
self and her children, but it is very evident that she 
has abandoned many of the ideas and practices she 
brought home with her from the convent. She slips 
into St. Paul's to the eight o'clock Mass, usually after 
the priest is on the altar, and sometimes just at the 
gospel ; but she never goes to High Mass, because 
her husband is at home on Sundays, and he objects 
to having his wife absent on the only day that he 
can be with her. If he happens to feel like going 
to his church at eleven o'clock, and returning at 
one, that is a different thing; she never hears a 



A Grave Question 47 

sermon, nor assists at Vespers or Benediction, for 
the same reason, her husband cannot spare her, 
and the hour for evening service interferes with the 
household arrangements. Such a thing as *' grace 
at meals " is unheard-of, and one of her friends 
sadly doubts whether Louise even says her morn- 
ing prayers. On Fridays there must be meat on 
the table, and at every meal during Lent. She 
cannot attend the Lenten services, because Fendall 
objects to being left at home alone. 

There are three children, and the eldest, a boy 
of nine, who is clever and naughty, goes to the 
public school, because the children who attend the 
parochial school are so ** vulgar and low " that Fen- 
dall insists that they would spoil Fendall Junior's 
English and his manners ; and St. Xavier's College, 
which has a Minim Department, is too far away 
for one so young to attend by himself. He has 
promised, however, that the boy shall be sent to 
St. Xavier's to make his first communion. 

In the meanwhile there are some lively differences 
of opinion in the Gates household. Mrs. Gibson re- 
peats some of Fendall Junior's remarks, as if they 
were evidences of budding genius to make a doting 
grandmother proud, instead of indicators of a con- 
dition to be wept over. His mother insists on his 
going to church with her. One cold Sunday morn- 
ing the lad, instead of responding to her gentle tap 
by getting up and making ready to accompany 
her, turned over in his little bed and went to sleep. 
When his mamma came to his room to put the last 
touches to his toilet and to help him into overcoat 



48 The People of Our Parish 

and cap, after the fashion of mothers, she was hor- 
rified to see his curly head peeping out from under 
the covers. 

'' Well, I don't see why I should have to go to 
church ; papa does n't go ! " said the boy, in excuse. 

Another time he asked his mamma if he might 
go with his chum, who lived in the same block, to 
the Methodist Sunday-school. Of course he was 
met by a refusal, but with the Gates trait of deter- 
mination early manifesting itself, he passed on into 
the library where his father was reading, and made 
the same petition. His father said yes, so Fendall 
ran away gleefully. On holy days of obligation 
the child does not go to church, because his father 
will not have his school work interfered with. Early 
in life the lad is imbibing the doctrine that religion 
is all very well for w^omen and children, like his 
mamma and his little sister Dorothy, but not for 
men like his papa and himself. 

And what weight will the mother's teaching have 
when the example of the father is an ever present 
contradiction? A child naturally respects, obeys, 
and looks up to the father quite as much as to the 
mother. How is little Fendall Gates, for instance, 
to be made to understand that it is a mortal sin for 
him to miss Mass on Sunday, to eat meat on Friday, 
when his father never goes to Mass and eats meat 
every Friday? How is he to be taught to goto 
confession, to say his night and morning prayers, 
when his father omits both these practices? How 
is he to realize that his faith is his most precious 
possession, and not a mere matter of choice or 



A Grave Question 49 

expediency, like being a Democrat or a Republican, 
or a member of a club, when his father and his 
Grandmamma Gates, who gives him ten times more 
than Grandmamma Gibson, and his Uncle Jack, and 
two beautiful young aunts, do not believe in it 
at all? 

Mildred Gibson, who married a widower with two 
children, has not fared so well in the matter of 
religion as her sister. Mildred was always rather 
delicate, and was kept at home and sent to a day 
school ; so she did not get as thorough a training in 
her faith as Louise. She has two babies of her 
own, and is still delicate, so that she seldom goes 
to church at all ; and when she happens to be in the 
mood to be well she not infrequently accompanies 
her husband and her step-children to the Episcopal 
Church. 

"I can't see where the harm comes in,'* she 
declares belligerently. ^* How am I to expect my 
husband to be liberal towards my belief if I act 
as if I thought his church were a den of thieves? 
I go with him sometimes, and then he goes with me 
sometimes. And I just wish Father Horan, with 
his horrid brogue, and his droning way of preach- 
ing, could take a few lessons in pulpit oratory from 
Dr. Gracelands. His sermons are really beautiful, 
and so edifying ! Indeed, I only wish that Catho- 
lics would live up to half his teaching, and there 
would n't be so much scandal given in our parish. 
Of course I believe my own church just as firmly as 
you do, and hearing a sermon from another minister 
now and then is not going to change me. It is not 

4 



50 The People of Our Parish 

the church and the sermon that count — it is the 
people themselves and the lives they lead. Some 
of the most perfect Christians I know belong to the 
Episcopal Church ! " 

Naturally, when a woman has such sentiments, it 
would be absurd to expect her to be very particular 
about the ** minor" practices of her faith. 

Bad as it is for a girl to marry a man not of her 
faith, the consequences are usually deplorable when 
it is the man who ''marries mixed." Everybody was 
surprised when Tom McFall married Cora Bates 
some ten years ago; the rector of the Second Pres- 
byterian Church is her uncle, and the whole family 
have the reputation of having strong and bitter 
prejudice against Catholics. 

''I don't object to my coachman or my cook 
being a Romanist, but most emphatically I do 
object to my daughter's husband belonging to that 
faith," said Mrs. Bates, when rumors of young Mc- 
Fall's attentions to pretty Cora began to gain 
currency. 

'* It will never be a match," said Tom's friends, 
*' because Mrs. Bates would rather see her daughter 
dead than have her make the required promises." 

Nevertheless, in due time cards were out for 
the wedding; a gorgeous wedding it was, too, with 
the house turned into a fairyland of flowers and 
lights, six bridesmaids and a page of honor, 
Sherry's orchestra, and champagne enough to float 
a raft, and ** everybody who is anybody " among 
the guests. Mrs. McFall and the Misses McFall 
looked triumphant, so malicious ones declared, for 



A Grave Question 51 

they were getting their first glimpse of real society. 
The Archbishop himself performed the ceremony, 
because old Tom McFall, who made a fortune in 
mines, had given five thousand dollars towards the 
new Cathedral. 

The first child lived only three hours, and Mrs. 
McFall herself baptized it. It was several years 
before the second one came, and Mrs. McFall and 
her daughter-in-law were not on the best of terms. 
Mrs. McFall undeniably did consider the McFall 
dollars a more desirable possession than the Bates 
blue blood, and she was not slow to express this 
opinion. And many things had happened to Cora; 
among others, she had joined her uncle's church. 

She most emphatically declared that a priest 
should not baptize her baby, and as it was born at 
her mother's house poor Tom could not very well 
insist upon it. '* There will be time enough," he 
thought. *' And when Cora is back in her own 
home, away from the hourly influence of her 
mother, she will abide by her promise." But Cora 
did nothing of the sort. She put aside her promise 
as lightly as if it had been a bit of thistle. 

** My children are my own, and they are going to 
be brought up in my faith," she declared without 
any circumlocution. 

'' Promise ! What does a young girl know about 
a mother's love, or. a mother's duty? You were 
very glad to get a Protestant wife ; I don't see why 
you should object to Protestant children." 

After six months of wrangling Tom slipped off 
with the child and had it baptized ; but Cora dis- 



52 The People of Our Parish 

covered what she was pleased to call her husband's 
treachery, went into hysterics, and threatened to go 
home to her mother. 

Only a few weeks after the Bates-McFall nup- 
tials society assembled for another mixed marriage, 
and Adele Devereux became Mrs. Charles Warren 
Henderson. If the other was a great social func- 
tion, this was an Event, for the Bates blueblood is 
very pale azure when compared with the current of 
royal purple coursing in the veins of the Devereux. 
It was said at the time that every name of social 
prominence in the city could have been found on 
the cards with the bridal presents, hardly one of 
which did not represent a relation, or at least a con- 
nection by marriage. And, like Cora Bates, the 
high-born Adele married a man of no particular 
family. Young Henderson came to the city as a 
partner in a large factory, and was introduced at a 
good club, and into society, by the junior member 
of the company. A disreputable little weekly, 
which ought to have been named '' The Wasp," an- 
nounced that the latest addition to Swelldom, Mr. 

C. W. H , was the grandson of a man who began 

life at a dollar a day in a tannery. The young man 
said that the item was true, except that he believed 
the wage had been only ninety-five cents. Mr. 
Henderson himself was rated at half a million dollars, 
and he was personally most charming. 

The question might have presented itself to a 
looker-on, Why could not Adele have married Tom 
McFall, a young man of her own faith, and every 
whit the equal of Henderson? 



A Grave Question 53 

Old Tom might not know the difference be- 
tween the Parthenon and a barn, but young Tom 
is college-bred, travelled, cultured, good-looking, 
manly, and the only son of his father, with but two 
sisters to divide the prospective inheritance. It is 
possible that the Devereux had never laid eyes on 
the McFalls, although they had lived neighbors for 
years, until the McFalls built their palace opposite 
the park. 

Would you have Mrs. Devereux, born De Clouet, 
and descended from the Marquis Villeneuve, call 
on, and recognize socially, Mary McFall, whose own 
mother had landed at Castle Garden from the 
steerage? Perhaps not, but then would you have 
Mrs. Devereux's daughter marrying the non-Catho- 
lic grandson of a poor tanner? 

If the Hendersons have had any ripples in their 
domestic life they have not published the fact to 
the world ; but it is easy to understand that Adele, 
a devout, vivacious little beauty, would be happier 
if she and her husband were one in the most vital 
concern of her life, if she could share with him her 
devotions and her ideals. 

** But we should like to hear about the three 
cases that turned out well," chirps a young girl, 
whose heart flutters dangerously in the presence 
of a youth who has no religion at all, and rather 
makes a merit of the fact. 

** Ah, it is easy to lose sight of them, when the 
other kinds are before one's eyes and memory all 
the time ! " responded the white-haired saint. 

** There was poor Blanche Caruthers, that died 



54 The People of Our Parish 

and left three beautiful children, now being reared 
strict Httle Unitarians, by the Boston spinster who 
promptly became Mrs. Caruthers the second. And 
there is Miss Sue Bedford, a leader in the Ethical 
Culture movement, and the author of that horrible 
article in the ** Blank Review " denouncing the 
Christian system of marriage ; she will tell you that 
her father was a Catholic, but that the children 
were left, by mutual agreement, to be free to choose 
their own religion. 

" The happiest example that I have ever known 
was that of the Ewings. Her friends were sur- 
prised when Clara Campion's engagement to Robert 
Ewing was announced, because Clara was known 
to be so pious, and so faithful in the practice of 
her religion; one would have thought of her as 
the last person in the w^orld to marry a man of 
an alien belief. But Robert was personally charm- 
ing, and with the one exception he had everything 
to recommend him. The girl went back to the 
convent to make a retreat shortly before she was 
married, and her old teacher, who had once been 
a woman of the world herself, gave some sterling 
counsel which was never forgotten. 

*' * My dear, in marrying a man not of your faith,' 
she said, *you will have to be not only as good and 
pious as the average Catholic woman, but better, 
far, far better. The beauty of your own life must 
teach your husband the beauty of your church. 
The little faults that other women might be guilty 
of without serious consequences must never touch 
your life.' 



A Grave Question 55 

" And from the very first the girl tried to act upon 
this advice. Scrupulously exact in the performance 
of every religious duty, she left nothing undone 
that could add to the charm of her home, or to her 
husband's comfort. Robert himself bore testimony 
to her uniform sweetness of disposition. 

^* ^ After four years of married life,* he declared, 
' never once have I seen Clara angry ; not even 
when a new parlor-maid sent our most beautiful 
art treasure to an untimely grave did she lose con- 
trol of her temper/ 

**When they first went to housekeeping Clara 
regularly served meat to Robert, but after a few 
months he said : * Oh, never mind about getting 
meat for me on Friday. A fish dinner once a week 
is good for the constitution. The hygienists all 
declare that this barbarous American habit of gorg- 
ing on meat at all meals, and at all seasons, is ruin- 
ing our national digestion.' 

** Clara never * preached,' — a thing no man will 
stand, — nor sought controversy, but sometimes she 
would say : ^ Don't you want to go to church with 
me, Robert? They are going to sing Mozart's 
Twelfth Mass ; ' or : ' Father Paxton will preach to- 
day, wouldn't you like to hear him? We think 
that he is an unusually fine preacher.' At Christ- 
mas and Easter he was attracted by the grandeur 
of the ceremonial. 

" At such times Clara always supplied him with a 
prayer-book, and explained the meaning of the 
services in advance. Sometimes he would volun- 
tarily ask an explanation of some dogma or prac- 



56 The People of Our Parish 

tice. On one occasion the subject was so intricate 
that Clara said frankly, * I am afraid, Robert, that 
I am not quite prepared, ofif-hand, to explain that 
satisfactorily, but you will find it treated at length 
in " The Faith of our Fathers,'' by Cardinal Gib- 
bons ; ' and this estimable book was put into his 
hands. It was a happiness to the devoted wife to 
see that he read every page of it, for she had un- 
limited confidence in our great Cardinal's power to 
instruct the ignorant. In concord and happiness 
five years went swiftly by, and poor Robert was 
stricken with pneumonia. It was soon evident that 
his life was near its end. He asked for a priest, 
and on his deathbed was baptized into the church 
which the example of his wife had made him love. 

'' Oh, there is no question but that here and there 
a mixed marriage proves fortunate and happy. 
But these are exceptions to the general rule." 

It takes a girl with a strong, noble character, a 
well-poised brain, to steer successfully through the 
shoals of a mixed marriage ; and, unfortunately, it is 
just girls of this type who hesitate longest about 
marrying a man not of their faith. It is the weak, 
frivolous, worldly, half-instructed girls who rush 
into these alliances, and see no danger in them. It 
is not so easy to be good, and a woman should not 
wilfully throw away the safeguard and help of a 
husband whose piety might be firm where hers was 
weak, whose sturdy faith would be as the north star 
to their common lives — the obstacles so hard for 
one proving trifles to their united strength. 

And if it is hazardous for a girl to marry one not 



A Grave Question ^y 

of her own faith, what can be said of the woman who 
takes for her husband a man who is of no religion 
at all, or of a very negative sort, — the infidel, agnos- 
tic, deist, or whatever name and form his want of 
reHgion may assume? 

The girl is bound by her faith, guiding her con- 
science, to be true to her husband until death parts 
them, to be his loving, loyal, devoted wife through 
poverty, illness, disgrace, misfortune, in whatever 
guise it may come; the man is bound by nothing 
but his fancy. If he tires of his wife there is 
nothing to prevent his seeking a divorce, and getting 
another; if illness and loss of beauty and charm 
rob her of his affection, he does not hesitate to 
bestow it elsewhere; if he has no conscience and 
no love for his wife, there is nothing in the world to 
keep him from abusing her; and, as a matter of 
fact, if the secret history of many a household could 
be known, the world would be amazed at the amount 
of neglect and abuse that are endured in proud 
silence by unhappy wives. 

Where there is the bond of a common faith, a 
common ideal, each bears with the failings of the 
other from a supernatural motive. 

Said a poor invalid who has hardly left her couch 
for years, except when borne in her husband's arms 
to a carriage for a little outing, ** I am sure my hus- 
band will be one of the great saints in heaven, he is 
so patient and so kind to me. I have been nothing 
but an expense and a drag to him all these years, 
but he makes me think that I am the greatest 
blessing his life could have known." 



58 The People of Our Parish 

A mother of girls says : ** What are you going to 
do? A nice Catholic girl must either marry a non- 
Catholic or else she must be an old maid, for there 
are no Catholic young men of her own class for her 
to marry.'* And not long ago from the four quarters 
of our country there came a wail from the young 
men: ''We marry Protestant girls because we don't 
meet in society Catholic girls of our own class, and 
a cultured young man cannot mate with an ignorant 
woman." The two wails together make a sort of 
comic-opera situation. It is undeniable that one 
knows many more nice Catholic girls than nice 
Catholic young men, letting that word nice do 
duty for well-bred, cultured, refined. Whether it is 
that whooping-cough and other infantile complaints 
carry off the little boys, leaving their sisters to grow 
to marriageable womanhood, or whether the parents 
give superior training to the daughters, statistics 
have not finally settled. There was still another 
" wail " from a good old priest, whose sober Teu- 
tonic mind has small use for the ** advanced woman," 
inveighing against the ''pernicious" (I am not sure 
that he did not say damnable) custom of educat- 
ing the girls above the boys, and, as a consequence, 
unfitting them to be the practical, sensible wives of 
other girls' brothers. 

In the smaller cities and towns, unquestionably, 
there is often the alternative of marrying a non- 
Catholic or of not marrying at all. Sometimes it 
resolves itself into a syllogism : It is my vocation to 
be married ; I am fitted by disposition, training, and 
inclination to be a good wife; one can save one'^ 



A Grave Question 59 

soul in that state of life to which one is called more 
easily than in any other; there are no Catholic men 
to marry, therefore it is wiser and better to marry a 
non-Catholic than not to marry at all. 

The problem is not an easy one for the marriage- 
able young person to solve. 



VI 

EXCEPTIONS TO GENERAL RULES 

THE little company assembled in Mrs. Dris- 
coirs drawing-room one Sunday evening had 
been talking about young Fred Weber's marriage, 
and the opposition of the bride's parents on ac- 
count of the religious differences of the couple. 

"There is one thing about your church that I 
don't understand," said Captain Claiborne, *' and 
that is, why you don't stick to your own rules.'* 

Claiborne, recently of the Volunteers, was bap- 
tized a Catholic, brought up a Methodist, and 
caught in a mild agnosticism through choice and 
force of circumstances. 

** I was at Weber's marriage," he went on ; '* a 
brilliant affair it was, too, and it gives point to my 
question. I happen to know that there is a rule 
in this diocese forbidding evening weddings, and 
another rule requiring a ' mixed couple,' as Carl 
would say, a Catholic and a Protestant, to go to 
the priest's residence to be married. Still another 
rule provides that the banns be announced for the 
three preceding Sundays in the parish church of 
the Catholic. 

" Each and all of these regulations were violated 
in the present instance. They wxre married in the 
gorgeous Louis Seize drawing-room of the Dayton 



Exceptions to General Rules 6i 

home ; they were married by electric Hght, before 
an assemblage in evening dress ; the hands of an 
onyx clock showed the hour to be ten minutes of 
seven; and Miss Norrison is my authority for saying 
that the banns had been published but once. Still 
another violation of rule, they were not married by 
the parish priest, as is ordinarily required, but by 
a clergyman from another city. 

** I call that a pretty stiff array of exceptions.'' 

** I was at the wedding, also,'' said Dr. Mordant. 
*' In fact, if it had not been for me there would have 
been no wedding, for I saved the life of the bride 
when she was three years old, who even at that 
early age began to show her disregard of accepted 
rules by swallowing a cherry-stone. 

" You understand, of course, that dispensations 
are given in matters of discipline, and never in 
matters of faith or morals. You are not such a 
donkey as to imagine anything else. 

** It is a principle of good government that the 
power that makes a rule can also dispense with the 
observance of the rule. The Church can, for satis- 
factory reasons, dispense from the laws that she 
makes herself. A law is always made for a good 
purpose, and only a grave reason can secure its 
abrogation. 

** Now, of course, I don't know, in this particular 
case, why the dispensations were granted ; but I 
know something of dispensations in general. In 
the first place, it is the wish of the Church that her 
children marry Catholics, that they get married 
in the morning at a nuptial Mass in their parish 



62 The People of Our Parish 

church, that they receive the nuptial blessing from 
the parish priest, and that the banns shall have 
been proclaimed for three Sundays. 

*^ Her wisdom and experience have shown that 
these regulations are conducive to the welfare, spirit- 
ual and temporal, of her children. Nevertheless, 
like a good mother, she is indulgent and divinely 
tender, and her regulations are meant to be salutary 
and upholding supports, not galling yokes. 

'* For good reasons dispensations are given, and, 
in many instances, given reluctantly, to prevent 
greater evils." 

*' Those regulations may be very well when two 
Catholics marry each other," said Claiborne; ''but I 
fail to see what purpose they serve when a Catholic 
marries a Protestant, since the Church won't let 
them be married at Mass, and withholds her bene- 
diction, no matter what they do. I certainly 
should n't want my sister, if she married a Catholic, 
to go to the clergyman's house for the ceremony, 
just like a runaway couple to Gretna Green, or 
friendless nomads from a boarding-house." 

''Rules are for everybody; exceptions are for in- 
dividuals. In the first place, you must bear in mind 
that, to a Catholic, marriage is a solemn sacrament, 
one that must be received in a state of grace under 
pain of sacrilege. It is not a mere civil contract, 
still less a social function. When the daughter of 
John Doe is married at home, this fact is remem- 
bered ; the priest is received with respect, the com- 
pany is decorous, and the ceremony is as solemn 
as the circumstances will permit. 



Exceptions to General Rules 63 

Shortly afterwards the priest is called to the home 
of Richard Roe for a similar function; the time is 
set for half-past five, but when the clergyman arrives 
a few minutes before the hour, nobody is ready; 
the bride is still engaged with her toilet or her 
bridesmaids, the musicians have not come, the 
lamps are not yet lighted in the drawing-room, and 
the priest is kept waiting for fifteen minutes, or an 
hour, for the ceremony. Dr. Saxon, the pastor of 
the bride, arrives, and eyes him coldly, and the 
friends of the family chatter together in isolated 
groups, leaving the priest to his own devices. 
Finally, after the ceremony, without any time for 
thought of the sacredness or solemnity of the 
sacrament, the occasion becomes merely an ordi- 
nary reception. The priest, who has had nothing 
to eat since an early luncheon, being human, is 
getting hungry. At last some one asks him to go 
to the dining-room, where he takes his place along 
with a crowd of strangers, and is served, standing, 
to a croquette and some ice-cream, washed down 
with champagne or California wine, — this part de- 
pending on the finances of Papa Roe. Some time 
after nine o'clock he reaches home, with an enve- 
lope in his pocket containing anything from five 
dollars to a hundred. He has been absent four 
hours, instead of one or two, as he intended, and 
he finds that he has missed several people of im- 
portance to see, and also a sick call from an old 
and devoted penitent. 

" He is behind with his office, and he goes to bed 
feeling not quite his usual self, but forgetful that he 



64 The People of Our Parish 

has had no dinner. In the morning he has a dull 
headache, and when he tries to write out his Sun- 
day's sermon the ideas are all in a haze." 

'* My dear Doctor, I think you are letting your 
imagination carry you too far in regard to the im- 
aginary nuptials of an imaginary Miss Roe," said 
Mrs. DriscoU; ^' but one can readily see how a 
home wedding, say in the Blank Flats, might cause 
disedification to the company and annoyance to the 
priest. A marriage in a stifling, ill-ventilated room, 
crowded with the hilarious and uncouth friends of 
the couple, might easily be shorn of every vestige of 
solemnity and decorum. The festivities are apt to 
be kept up far into the night, and the beverage will 
be neither champagne nor wine, but democratic 
beer, flowing in generous quantities. 

'' How much more in keeping with the sacrament 
would be a quiet ceremony in the rectory parlor, 
either in the morning or afternoon, with only the 
witnesses present ! " 

'' Ah ! then the home w^edding depends largely 
upon the sort of home it is?" answered Claiborne. 

** Well, yes, and the sort of people in the home," 
admitted the Doctor. 

" Granting that, why should the hour make any 
difference?" pursued Claiborne. ''Nobody wants 
to be married in the afternoon — " 

" Get married in the forenoon ; that is the proper 
time," retorted Dr. Mordant. ** As Adele here would 
say, evening w^eddings are 'bad form,' and whilst our 
Bishop is not an especially fashionable old gentle- 
man, he favors this point in the social code." 



Exceptions to General Rules 65 

" That hardly applies to this country,'* protested 
Claiborne. '' It would be easy to recall any number 
of fashionable evening weddings." 

** In Europe everybody is married in the morn- 
ing/' interpolated Adele. '' That rule is coming into 
favor, here too. A morning home wedding can be 
made as swell as you please — " 

" Horrid little word, * swell,' " whispered Mrs. 
Griggs. 

" When Annie Cresus married Count Coquin," 
went on Adele, '' and all the coroneted Coquins 
came over to the wedding, the ceremony was at 
nine o'clock, and a wedding breakfast was served 
immediately afterwards to the hundred guests, with 
the Archbishop who had officiated seated at the 
right of the bride's mother." 

^* To come down — or up, rather — to church wed- 
dings," went on Claiborne, ^' why is it allowable for 
a couple to be married at five o'clock, and forbid- 
den for them to be married at seven? " 

** Why does the elevator in your office building 
run until twelve o'clock, and not a minute after? 
Why do you work nine hours a day, and not eleven? 
Why does the city council demand a pavement of 
eight feet, and not permit one of seven? Why do 
law and order demand any concessions from human 
caprice? " 

'* That is not an answer; it is merely pyrotechnics 
in words," retorted Claiborne. 

" Evening weddings in the church are forbidden 
in the interests of law and order, and also out of 
respect for the Blessed Sacrament. All the hood- 

5 



66 The People of Our Parish 

lums in the neighborhood, or from neighborhoods 
remote, congregate around a church when a wed- 
ding is taking place, and rend the air with their 
noise ; and, worse still, if the ushers are not on the 
alert and draconian in their scrutiny of cards, peo- 
ple who have not been bidden to the ceremony 
scramble in, crowding those who have a right to 
be there, standing in the pews to catch a glimpse 
of the bride and of the assemblage, — and a dar- 
ing urchin once perched himself on top of the 
confessional ! Chatter and laughter are going 
on constantly, and the occasion is robbed of its 
solemnity. Then, to come to the material point 
of view, on investigation the following day the 
pews are found scratched, the cushions torn, the 
floor inexpressibly dirty, an arabesque of tobacco- 
stains on the carpet." 

*' But, pardon me, my dear Mrs. Driscoll, surely 
those features are evils that proper care could 
easily obviate. A few policemen on duty near the 
entrance would speedily disperse the crowds, and 
no one can complain when the ushers resolutely 
demand the cards of admission; in no other way 
can intruders be kept out.'* 

'^ Perhaps for the weddings among nice people 
these evils could be avoided, but if a pastor opens 
his church for one he must do it for all ; and when 
Tim Sharky and Nettie Toole are married, their 
friends would have the right to crowd the church, in 
noisy, malodorous numbers. 

*' And there is one form of disrespect not con- 
fined to * the lower classes.' I have seen in our 



Exceptions to General Rules 67 

own church at evening weddings — they do take 
place occasionally — women in evening dress — I 
am speaking of the days of the extreme decollete — 
that would have shamed a Roman festival. Un- 
covered shoulders are out of place in a church." 

"But suppose a man must work all day; would 
you debar him from matrimony on that account?" 
continued the young officer, banteringly. 

*' A man that cannot afford a holiday for his 
wedding is not prepared for matrimony. However, 
there is no rule without an exception, and I know 
of at least one instance where a couple were married 
at night for the very reason you give. The bride- 
groom was compelled to work because of the illness 
of the man who was to have taken his place in the 
shop, and the pastor married them at night; but 
there were conditions ; the church was not open, 
and only two witnesses were allowed to be present, 
the little party following the clergyman from the 
rectory through the sacristy to the altar. 

** You see the powers that be are not unreason- 
able in their demands." 

*^ You insist that in order to have a dispensation 
one must show a reason why it should be granted," 
continued Claiborne. '' You say that for the reason 
of illness, old age, or hard work, one is dispensed 
from the Lenten fast; necessity permits one to work 
on Sundays or holidays; you give cases where 
the regulations in regard to the time and place 
of marriage are abrogated ; now I should like to 
know the reasons that allow a Catholic to marry 
a Protestant." 



68 The People of Our Parish 

** I should like to know that, too/* put in Adele. 
'* Not that I have any ' serious intintions/ as our 
cook would say, but simply as a seeker after 
information/' 

*' Is it not merely a matter of form?'* asked 
Travis. ** I have known scores of instances where 
the only reason that any one could see was the very 
good one that the couple fell in love with each 
other. And if that be a sufficient reason, why 
require a dispensation, since that is an understood 
condition, at least theoretically, to all American 
alliances." 

*^ That is a question that takes us into rather deep 
waters,'' said the old Doctor. ^* I fancy the Church 
rather favors keeping the laity in the dark in regard 
to the causes for dispensations in this matter, since 
if people were familiar with them they might easily 
bring about the conditions for themselves. You 
have all heard the story of the mother who warned 
her children not to put beans in their noses, and 
who returned from her outing to find each baby 
nostril filled with a bean? 

** There is much more to be considered than the 
mere matter of falling in love. In fact, some crusty 
old priests, to whom sentiment is absolutely an 
unknown quantity, might refuse to consider that 
altogether. 

** There are reasons, known in the schools as ca- 
nonical reasons, for dispensations ; you will find them 
treated at length, in the Latin tongue, in various 
moral theologies. Now, when a couple applies for 
a dispensation they must show one or more of these 



Exceptions to General Rules 69 

reasons before the priest will apply for the dispen- 
sation. If the reason does not seem sufficiently 
strong the Bishop may, and often does, refuse. Of 
course the pastor makes the application, and he 
naturally puts it in the correct form, but he must 
have a bona fide reason; it is a matter of con- 
science with him, and might be made a matter of 
ecclesiastical discipline as well, if he were not care- 
ful to keep within the law. 

*^ In the first place, the prohibition of the Church 
acts as a deterring influence with the majority of 
Catholics; no one can look with indifference on 
taking what cynics call a plunge into the dark — 
entering the holy state of matrimony — without the 
blessing of the Church. Then there are certain con- 
ditions to be complied with by the couple asking 
the dispensation. The non-Catholic must promise, 
and I believe the promise is now required in writ- 
ing, not to interfere with the practice of the religion 
of the Catholic spouse, that all the children are to 
be brought up in the Catholic faith, and that this 
promise will be kept even in case of the death of 
the Catholic. More than one marriage has been 
broken off when this promise comes up for consid- 
eration, and sometimes a weak Catholic, especially 
anxious to get married, and fearing that another 
chance will not present itself, yields, and is married 
by a judge or justice, or even by a preacher. Some- 
times you hear a couple say that they had agreed 
that all the girls were to be of the mother's religion, 
and all the boys to go with the father ; but this is 
nonsense, — a palpable falsehood to those who 



70 The People of Our Parish 

know anything about the regulations of the Catholic 
Church. No priest would dare to ask for a dispen- 
sation if this preliminary promise had been with- 
held. Oftentimes it is not kept, but where it is not 
you may know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, 
that a solemn pledge is being violated. 

" Another condition is, that the ceremony must 
be performed by the priest, and no other ceremony, 
before or after, can take place. Sometimes a couple 
are married by a priest, and then a public ceremony 
at the home of the bride, with her pastor officiating, 
follows ; but where this happens it is positive that 
the priest has been deceived ; furthermore the Cath- 
olic is lending himself to a sacrilege, and incurs 
excommunication ipso facto^ becomes a ' reserved 
case ' — something very dreadful, indeed.*' 

'' Don't you think your Church is just a little 
severe?" inquired Claiborne. 

*' No, I don't think anything of the kind," re- 
torted Dr. Mordant, promptly. *' The Church objects 
to mixed marriages, and she wishes them to be 
made as difficult as possible ; and besides, if you 
understood what the Church really is, the teacher 
and conserver of a divinely committed truth, you 
would see that she could not be less exacting. 
One's faith should be dearer than any earthly pos- 
session possible, and if one so regards it, it naturally 
follows that one would wish to transmit this price- 
less heritage to one's offspring. 

'* To come back to the reasons for dispensations — 
age and ugliness are accepted ; Adele, you could n't 
creep in under either head. Suppose a spinster 



Exceptions to General Rules 71 

of thirty-five gets an offer of marriage from a Meth- 
odist, and the chances are that she will not get 
another, her pastor cannot be so hard-hearted as 
to refuse to consider her application for a dispensa- 
tion; or suppose a girl lives in a community where 
there are few Catholic young men of her own rank 
in life, or that she has been receiving attentions 
from the gentleman until her neighbors are of the 
opinion that wedding cards should follow, or that 
there are family reasons, the healing of a feud, the 
uniting of desirable estates. In Europe this con- 
dition occurs more frequently than with us. Often- 
times the peace of nations depends upon a certain 
alliance between royal families." 

'* Speaking of Europe," said Claiborne, *' reminds 
me of another point in the discussion, and that is 
the shameful unions among near relatives. The 
Church theoretically forbids them within the fourth 
degree; but despite the prohibition we are con- 
stantly seeing marriages among first cousins. I 
don't mind that so much, although strong reasons, 
not of sentiment but of sense, can be adduced 
against them ; but when it comes to an uncle 
marrying his niece, I call it nothing less than 
shameful." 

** That happens very rarely," answered the Doc- 
tor, *' and only for extraordinary reasons is a dis- 
pensation granted. Among royalties the welfare 
of nations is generally involved; among private 
folk, often the good name of the girl." 

*' You might tell us who She is, Captain Clai- 
borne," interposed Mrs. Driscoll. *' Such a thirst 



72 The People of Our Parish 

for detailed information naturally makes us all sus- 
picious. I shall be very glad to tell Father Ryan 
what a nice boy you are, or to say a good word for 
you to the girl ; but then of course that part would 
be entirely superfluous.'* 



VII 

A FOOTNOTE TO AN OLD DISCUSSION 

MRS. HICKS confided to me this afternoon 
that her son George is going to be married 
to Kate Mahan, the engagement to be announced 
very soon, and the wedding to follow shortly af- 
terwards. Seldom in my life have the restraints 
imposed by civilization on a truth-loving tongue 
seemed so exasperatingly hampering. Assuming 
the deprecating attitude of the beneficent parent, she 
assured me that, whilst Kate was not quite the wife 
she would have chosen for George, neither she nor 
Mr. Hicks objected to the girl personally ! I sup- 
pose I was expected to infer that the Mahan 
escutcheon is not quite up to the lofty Hicks 
standard. 

I felt like telling her that any respectable girl in 
this parish is much too good for her son. George 
Hicks has been sowing his wild oats in so public a 
manner for a half-dozen years that it is no violation 
of the law of charity to comment on the abundant 
crop he has harvested. 

Now, forsooth, he is a little tired, and ready to 
" reform," and his mother regards it quite as a 
matter of course for some sweet, innocent girl to 
step forth to be the willing prop of this shaky 
reformation ! 



74 The People of Our Parish 

If it were poor little Kitty Mahan — it seems 
only yesterday that the child was in short frocks — 
who had *^ reformed," and was aspiring to the hand 
of Prince George (of the house of Hicks), all the 
mothers in the country would hold up their arms 
in righteous amazement at her presumption. 

The press and the various talking clubs have 
treated the subject *^ ad nauseam " of what is dubbed 
** the double standard," not of sound money, but of 
unsound morals. One side, representing the solid, 
conservative element, the British pater familias and 
the American mother of sons, insists that it is all 
*^rot" to judge men and women by the same laws, 
and the wildest Utopian dream to imagine that the 
standard will ever be the same for both. 

They show very clearly that the foundations of 
society rest upon the virtue of women. They fail 
to show how something higher than society — 
Christianity — can rest on anything less than the 
virtue of mankind. A very large class of thinkers, 
whose prime apostle is Mr. Ruskin, insists with 
tireless persistence that woman is the weaker vessel, 
that her mission in life is to be a helpmate for man, 
and that just as she is subordinate in physical 
strength, so she is in intellectual vigor. 

If this be the case, and Scriptural texts, hurled 
like Parthian arrows, are made to support it, then it 
logically follows that man, far more than woman, 
should set the example of all beautiful traits. 

The cleverest of American essayists, Agnes 
Repplier, has conceded without argument that in 
the higher walks of human activities man has un- 



A Footnote to an Old Discussion j^ 

questionably excelled, and it were a bootless task 
to thresh over old straw. But mounting from the 
intellectual to the spiritual, we find woman in im- 
memorial possession. 

Woman makes the sanctity of home, without which 
law and order would speedily be turned to chaos; 
she fills our churches, crowds the altar railings, at- 
tends to the poor, keeps alive the higher culture, and 
does far more than her half of the world*s work. 

The demon drink has possession of myriads of 
men, but of few women ; the millions of dollars 
that annually swell the coffers of the saloon keepers 
have been spent in selfish disregard of hungry little 
children, ill-clad, sorrowful wives, the needs of the 
poor, the just demands of the Church, and spent by 
men; men fill the penitentiaries, the jails, the work- 
houses ; they fall away from the practice of religion 
by countless thousands ; and from the earliest times 
they seem to have followed their own caprices in the 
breaking of parts of the Decalogue, in absolute im- 
punity, so far as the world's censure is concerned. 

This is not saying that men have not been heroi- 
cally good, that any community is without men who 
lead cleanly, noble lives. Men are found in the 
calendar of saints, in the vanguard of all high en- 
deavor; one can bear grateful testimony to all this, 
and yet stand appalled at the array of vices which 
are perpetrated and perpetuated by men. 

It is certain, as certain as anything human can 
be, that there are far more good women in the 
world than there are good men. 

If in the divine order man is intended to be the 



76 The People of Our Parish 

head of woman, her wise ruler, and loving protector, 
why does he fail so egregiously in the first duty of 
a superior, the setting of a good example? 

It is absurdly paradoxical for women to fold their 
white robes about them and shut the door relent- 
lessly against a woman whose robe is not quite 
white, or has not always been so, and open it wide 
to men whose moral habiliment is smirched to 
sooty blackness. 

Individual women say : ^* Society is so constituted, 
and we must bow down to its usages ; we are power- 
less to effect a change." 

The individual can do very little, but a collection 
of individuals make up society, and society forms 
public sentiment, and pubHc sentiment, which let 
down the bars of morality a score of centuries before 
Christianity had birth, could easily put them up 
again, and show a consistency between the theories 
of civilization and its practice. 

Among the nine ways in which, as the little cate- 
chism tells us, we can be accessory to another's sin, 
is connivance in the evil done. 

How is it that the fathomless mother-love, which 
has sweetened the world since Eve crooned lullabies 
to little Abel, has not sprung to the rescue of boyish 
souls? 

The apparent callousness of good Christian 
mothers on this point is appalling; the innocence 
of their daughters is guarded as infinitely more 
precious than apples of the Hesperides, but the loss 
of the innocence of their sons seems to trouble them 
never at all ! 



A Footnote to an Old Discussion 77 

They make temptation easy by doing away with 
all earthly penalties for a fall. They seem to forget, 
or to ignore, that awful reckoning in another world. 
Poor boys ! when even their own mothers and sisters 
are leagued against them. 

A fatal fallacy running through much of the dis- 
cussions is, that woman should be allowed the same 
personal liberty in the matter of morals as man; in 
a word, that all women should have the privilege of 
being as bad as some men. If society is far from 
ideal with its feminine half held to a strict account, 
what would it be if both women and men were free 
to choose either virtue or vice ! 

Virtue that is a matter of compulsion is not of a 
very admirable order; but one must admit that it is 
far better for the individual as well as for society, of 
which the individual is a part, for a person to be 
good through compulsion than not to be good at all. 

And the effect of the example is just the same. 

Three men stand out in history as representative 
and forever great: Julius Caesar, conqueror, law- 
giver, pagan ; Napoleon, conqueror, lawgiver, Chris- 
tian; Louis XIV., hereditary monarch, lawgiver, 
Christian, — three men as noted for their private 
vices as for their public virtues, but three men held 
up to the admiration of boyish hearts. To many 
minds the pagan was the noblest of them all; thus 
a bad example, reaching out from the grave where 
kingly ashes have mouldered for centuries, puts a 
weapon in the hands of the enemies of religion. 

Boys are taught their catechism, and taken in their 
childish innocence to make their first communion; 



jS The People of Our Parish 

and then the world steps in and says, *^ Leave religion 
to women and children/' 

And so we have the paradox of Freemasons and 
infidels ruling, or misruling, Catholic countries. In 
France, Italy, Mexico, Cuba, South America, women 
fill the churches and lay siege to heaven with their 
prayers ; but their husbands and fathers enter the 
portals only to be baptized, married, and buried. 

Women bewail this condition of things, and ig- 
nore the fact that they themselves have helped to 
bring it about. When society demands that purity, 
honor, and sobriety shall be the passports to recog- 
nition and favor, regardless of sex, — for the Deca- 
logue knows no exception, — then indeed will come 
the dawning of a happier era for humanity. 

Not a lower standard for woman, but a higher 
standard for man should be the slogan in this mod- 
ern crusade. 

In that happy time young girls will not be ex- 
pected to say, ** Thank you, sir," for the shop-worn 
affections of any man. 

In the mean time, Kitty Mahan has probably been 
schooled by her mother not to be over-nice in her 
choice of a husband, so long as a carriage and pair, 
and all that they represent, are to reward her mag- 
nanimity. 



VIII 

SOME DOMESTIC INTERIORS 

PERHAPS the greatest charm in novels is that 
we are transported into beautiful, or interest- 
ing, or curious homes without the trouble of going 
forth to seek them. In this way we can have a much 
larger circle of friends and acquaintances than would 
be possible in any other, and without the disquiet- 
ing consciousness that some of them are most inel- 
igible for friendship, or the humiliating suspicion 
that we are intruding unasked into the society of 
'' our betters." 

We can go to the Queen's drawing-room without 
the permission of the American ambassador, and 
make the thirteenth at a Midas banquet given to a 
favored twelve. 

St. Paul's is not an unusually large parish; in- 
deed, since the Grosvenor Park people insisted upon 
having a church of their own, and cut themselves 
off from us to add wealth and prestige to St. 
Pius's, we are of very moderate dimensions ; yet it 
is safe to say that within the parish limits are to be 
found such diversity of homes, and of people, as 
would supply material to all the novelists in the 
State. 

At the corner of Carroll Place there stands a 
beautiful old stone homestead, set well back in a 



8o The People of Our Parish 

flowering lawn ; for the house dates from the era 
when lawns and flowers belonged as naturally as the 
doors and walls to the rich man's town-house. 

One goes up the gray stone steps with richly 
carved newels, and finds a modern electric door-bell, 
which has but recently taken the place of the brass 
knocker; a heavy door, fit to be the portal of a 
seventeenth-century chateau on the Loire, swings 
slowly open, and admits the visitor into a lofty, 
broad hall, with a marble floor left almost bare 
of rugs; a massive bronze lamp depends from a 
beautiful frescoed ceiling, no longer in its pristine 
freshness. 

To the left is the spacious drawing-room, with 
heavy curtains draping the long French windows, 
massive, old-fashioned mahogany furniture, and dim 
old paintings on the walls. As the eye becomes 
accustomed to the half-light one distinguishes a 
copy of Raphael's Sistine Madonna, and a-^oft-eyed 
gentle St. Elizabeth. In a far corner is a white 
marble statue of Our Lady. Instantly one has a 
key to the faith of the household, the old faith so 
rich in inspiration to the artist, so unerring in its 
use of art. After this glimpse, one is quite prepared 
to find in the chatelaine of the mansion the dear old 
gentlewoman who came to the house a bride forty 
years ago, and who has, under its hospitable roof, 
reared a charming family of womanly daughters and 
brave sons. If you get to know the family well 
enough you will hear of Robert, the eldest, who now 
represents his country at a European court, and is 
the pride of his father and mother, — not so much 



Some Domestic Interiors 8i 

because of his fame, but, as they will tell you, '* be- 
cause Robert has been nothing but a pleasure to us 
all his life ; he was always so good." 

Of Elizabeth, now a sweet young matron, married 
into another of our old Catholic families; of Ar- 
mand, a talented, spirituel youth, who died in the 
Jesuit Scholasticate in Belgium ; of Constance, a 
gay young belle, who dances from All Saints' to 
Shrove Tuesday, inclusive, and prays like a little 
nun, and goes demurely on her way of charity and 
good works during Lent. ^* Oh, yes, Constance 
loves society, sometimes I fear, too much," says the 
mother; "but she is such a devoted child, and so 
sweet and gracious, who could help loving her, and 
spoiling her too, almost as much as her father 
does?" 

Across the hall is the library, and in the rows of 
blackened cases one finds many a well-thumbed 
volume bearing names that the cramming average 
young American has barely heard of: Montalem- 
bert, de Sevign6, de Gu^rin, John England, Mar- 
tin L. Spalding, — these hold up their honored 
heads along with the best of the old aristocracy of 
literature. 

On the mantel above the grate there stands, for 
everybody to see, a tall, yellowing, ivory crucifix. 
As one goes over the house, one finds emblems of 
religion and the world's Redeemer in all its big, 
cheery rooms. Here, evidently, is the robust, logi- 
cal faith that recognizes and utilizes the tremendous 
power for good or evil in environment. 

It has never occurred to this gentle dame that 

6 



82 The People of Our Parish 

the best way to teach purity and modesty and wo- 
manly virtue to a young girl is to surround her, 
from her earliest years, with pictures and statues of 
Venuses and dancing Bacchantes ; or that these, 
however good from the artistic point of view, would 
incite to prayer and noble living, rather than copies 
6f Millet's AngehiSy and Murillo's Immaculate Con- 
ceptioii ; or that a bronze Hermes, or a beautiful 
head of the young Tiberius, would prove more effec- 
tive in quickening the boyish pulse with heroic 
resolve and manly honor than the bust of the great 
Leo, or the scholarly profile of the saintly Newman. 

The matron next door thinks differently, and 
pagan treasures are to be found in her house in pro- 
fusion, and in the most unimpeachably artistic verity. 
As she would tell you, with a shrug of her bared, 
white shoulders, '' it is all a matter of taste." But 
our chatelaine is an old-fashioned mother who would 
prefer to see her children innocent and chivalrous, 
rather than artistic and world-wise. 

And what beautiful memories cluster around this 
old home ! — memories of the gay frolics of children, 
of splendid parties for the children grown-up, of 
christenings, and first- communion breakfasts, and 
wedding feasts, of birthdays, and anniversaries, and 
Christmas dinners. 

Now the house is more quiet, but never for long, 
and grandchildren lend their piping trebles to the 
echoes of the vaulted hall. 

Over in Seneca Street, the houses are on a very 
different scale, built in a row, and whole blocks of 
them just alike. One hears the story of the young 



Some Domestic Interiors 83 

man who went into the wrong door, and did not dis- 
cover his mistake until confronted by the angry 
occupant of the third-story front. 

These houses were built before architects awoke 
to the possibilities lying dormant in their imagina- 
tions. There is one block which is known as ** The 
Dovecote," because so many young couples have 
set up their Lares and Penates behind its narrow 
stone fronts. 

The Carletons live there, and Mrs. Carleton, who 
as Eleanor Byrne was the prettiest little minx in 
the Raphael Sketch Club, has accomplished the 
impossible, and wrought artistic beauty out of the 
little box rooms, and the long, narrow hall with its 
abrupt toy stairs. She had the house freshly 
papered, choosing each shade and pattern with ref- 
erence to the light, or more frequently the absence 
of light, in the particular room ; and with the new 
furniture, the wedding presents, some growing plants 
at the windows, candles with pink shades in the 
dining-room, and Eleanor herself in her trousseau 
finery, the home is a delightful spot, and worthy of 
place in one's mental picture-gallery. 

Young George, the happy benedict, thinks so, and 
being a generous youth he is always asking his 
friends to dinner, *^ quite informally, you know;" and 
the bride, who is as delighted with the shiny new 
things in her kitchen and the motherly Bridget who 
presides there as she was with her dolls and card- 
board mansion not so very long ago, is developing 
surprising genius in the way of salads and soups. 
Sometimes, when there is a larger number of guests 



84 The People of Our Parish 

than the architect had planned for crowded into the 
pretty drawing-room, a gilt chair gets knocked over; 
and when Arthur Bonner, the noted bass, sings for 
their delectation, his big voice so fills the house that 
one expects to find a tiny crack in the wall. But 
the coterie evidently enjoy themselves, for they 
come back again as soon as asked, and the lord of 
the domicile chants insistent paeans of matrimony to 
bachelors. 

The neighbors opposite are not artistic. ** The 
lady of the house," in the suave words of the book 
agent, is not a bride, and whilst her devotion to her 
husband and little family is beyond question, its 
manifestation is somewhat erratic. She does not 
spare herself, and equally of course she does not 
spare them. Everything about her house is cheer- 
less and untidy. She cannot get along with the 
various Phyllises who have come and gone from her 
kitchen; when her husband returns home at night 
he expects, and is not often disappointed, to hear 
a tale of woe ; Phyllis has given warning, or she is 
so impudent or wasteful; the gas pipe leaks; little 
Phil has been having trouble at school, his teacher 
does not understand the child's sensitive tempera- 
ment; Katie shows symptoms of whooping-cough. 
And there is the bill from Eraser's — how the things 
do count up is a mystery, for she knows that no 
woman in town is as saving as she. The tale is 
interrupted by sounds of a lively scrimmage among 
the children, and vigorous wails from the youngest. 

It has been a long time since a guest, not a rel- 
ative, sat at their board, and naturally the couple 



Some Domestic Interiors 85 

have been dropped from the lists of dinner-givers. 
There are too many little mouths to feed, and little 
feet to keep shod to permit of squandering dollars 
on the theatre, and papa does not care for cards. 
He would like to read, but by the time the domestic 
atmosphere is cleared it is too late to do more than 
glance at the evening paper. 

Small wonder that, when the young man who has 
the desk next to his in the great commercial bee- 
hive asks for congratulations on his approaching 
nuptials, he stammers absently, *'You poor dev — 
oh, ah, — of course — I congratulate you, wish you 
every joy, old fellow. When is the — the happy 
day to be?'' 

As for the wife, she is not artistic, or literary, 
or social, or religious. It would be hard to say 
in a word just what she is, — a faded, peevish, dowdy 
little woman, her skirts in chronic need of new 
binding. 

As a rule, the keynote of a home is given by the 
being who presides as its queen. On her depends 
the comfort or the discomfort, the cheerfulness or 
the gloom, that pervades its interior. Rules, how- 
ever, have exceptions. For instance, a man with a 
decided literary bent will naturally have a good 
library, and there will be the literary flavor, so to 
speak, in the surroundings, the conversation, the 
point of view. If he is artistic there will be the 
atmosphere of art. In the ideal home there is the 
blending of tastes. 

People impress their individualities on their sur- 
roundings, or they do when they are not hampered 



86 The People of Our Parish 

for means until every natural taste has been 
smothered. Sometimes the poor woman who loves 
music and books and company and laughter is 
condemned to a dreary, cheerless, silent home ; and 
the woman who craves flowers and birds and the 
murmur of running brooks may dim her eyes gazing 
out over the chalky stretch of a barren Western 
plain. The man who would find his element with 
gun or wheel is forced by circumstances to the 
saloon or club for recreation. 

Whilst it is true that the woman makes the happi- 
ness of the home, she cannot always prevent its 
unhappiness. There are men in the world whom 
no woman without a halo could ever hope to please, 
and even a saint would find her task harder work 
than the winning of the halo. 

There is Perry Bryson, for one. When Carrie 
Turner married him her friends, and especially his, 
thought that she was doing unusually well for her- 
self; for the Brysons are a good old family, at one 
time rich, whilst the Turners were, in a sense, 
parvenus. Mrs. Turner was a widow with two 
daughters to take care of, and a very limited income. 
Louise, the elder, shocked her mother and sister by 
going to work. 

** I hate old gloves and threadbare flannels," she 
said, ** and a diet of stewed prunes and toast; and 
I am going to use the brains the good Lord gave 
me to obtain beefsteak and decent clothes." 

But then Louise was not pretty like Carrie, and 
was of a different temperament. 

Perry Bryson was the youngest son, much in- 



Some Domestic Interiors 87 

dulged by his mother, who naturally expected 
his wife to continue the indulgence. 

At first life was pleasant enough. Carrie soon 
discovered that her husband drank more than was 
good for him, and that his club dues and tailor's 
bills and incidental expenses — whatever that 
might mean — ate up his salary at an appalling 
rate. However, she did not complain. But after 
a brood of little Brysons appeared on the scene, to 
be fed and clothed and taken care of in the thou- 
sand ways which the modern child has invented to 
use up an income, the pinch of real poverty made 
itself felt. Carrie had long since dropped out of 
society; either the children needed her presence, 
or else she had no clothes suitable in which to 
appear in the drawing-rooms frequented by her 
husband. She never thought of asking him to stay 
at home with her when an invitation came which 
she could not accept. Soon their friends came to 
look upon Mrs. Bryson as a chronic invalid, and 
rather pitied Perry. There was nothing the matter 
with the poor woman except loneliness and neglect, 
and the torturing problem of trying, from week to 
week and from year to year, to live on a pittance 
woefully inadequate to the demands made upon it. 

With one inefficient domestic, six children, and a 
husband who made things unpleasant if his dinner 
was not well cooked and properly served, it can be 
divined that life for the wife and mother meant 
merely a round of never-ending toil. 

With no leisure, no opportunity for pleasure, or 
fresh air, or pretty clothes, or books, or great plays, 



88 The People of Our Parish 

or new pictures, and far too much exercise of the 
wrong sort, it is not surprising that '^ Mrs. Perry 
Bryson looks so much older than her husband, and 
oh, such a fright ! She never has on a ' decent 
gown, or appears to know anything of what you 
are talking about; and her husband is so nice and 
so good-looking. One does see the queerest 
matings, or mismatings — " 

And handsome Perry Bryson, as he doles out 
money to Carrie, and wonders in April what she 
could have done with the check he gave her at 
Christmas, feels unfairly treated when stewed prunes, 
or their equivalent, appear on his table. 

Miss Louise Turner, a prosperous spinster of 
thirty-six, who keeps house with another spinster in 
a cozy flat, and has an income from property 
almost enough to support her did she choose to 
give up her place as the head of a bureau of stenog- 
raphy, pays her sister Carrie an occasional visit. 
Although five years the senior, she looks younger 
and fresher than Mrs. Bryson. She has been to 
Europe, and every summer is spent in travel and 
rest. With work, society, friends, books, fads, 
charities, and her sister's children, she has no time 
for regrets for what her brother-in-law says that she 
has missed. (She is devoutly thankful that she has 
missed a Perry Bryson !) 

** Poor Louise ! What a pity she never married ! " 
says Perry; ^' she would have made some man a 
good wife. She never was as pretty as you, Carrie, 
but she is rather stunning now. Some women are 
like that, you know — never seem to amount to any- 



Some Domestic Interiors 89 

thing in the way of looks until they get up in years ; 
and others are just — *' but he had the grace to 
stop short. 

The Bryson children are uproariously delighted 
when Aunt Louise is expected ; for her coming 
means more matinees, and candy, and nice times 
generally, than their father would give them in a 
year. 

And *' poor Louise *' secretly pities ** poor 
Carrie," and crushes down the impulse to give that 
** selfish, unfeeling incarnation of stinginess," her 
brother Perry, a piece of her indignant mind ! 

Down near the lower boundary of the parish one 
comes upon the dwellings of the poor, sometimes 
the very poor, and, in at least one block, of the 
** submerged" poor. 

Mrs. George Carleton, who is an active member 
of the St. Paul's Aid Society, says that there is no 
excuse for the ** submerging; " that when you 
find a family who cannot by their united efforts 
earn enough to eat and to wear, you will usually 
find the beer mug and laziness behind their dis- 
tress. " Of course, where sickness is a factor the 
case is different." 

Even a tenement can afford striking contrasts. 

There are the Dingers, who live in the Kensing- 
ton flats; the house is so called, although it is 
really only a tenement of the better sort. They 
have four rooms, but they also have a home. Too 
many of their neighbors have only four rooms ; 
they have not succeeded in making a home. 

The Dinger children go to school, all except 



90 The People of Our Parish 

Tom, the first-born, who is sixteen, and has a posi- 
tion in a shoe store. The father is a mechanic, 
earning fairly good wages. What first impresses 
one in their abode is the neatness and brightness of 
everything. Flowers are in the windows, and the 
whitest of muslin curtains are looped back from 
them ; there are pictures on the walls. Mrs. Carle- 
ton says that she has to wear smoked glasses when 
she calls to leave magazines from the book club, 
the pictures are so highly colored; but they suit 
the Dingers. 

In the evening the little family gather around the 
dinner-table ; the mother in her calico frock and 
white apron, fresh and crisp, listens with maternal 
pride to the children's bulletins of their school, and 
Master Tom's boasting of what '* our firm " is going 
to do; and the husband says that he ''guesses" 
Kittie can have a guitar if she gets over ninety in 
her examinations, has visions of Tom's glorious 
future, and is altogether sure that there is not a 
finer family in the parish than his. 

If you listen to their conversation, or use your 
eyes, you will soon find out that they know some- 
thing about books, and the happenings in the big 
world; and Tom, at least, can tell you the names 
and strong points of all the great histrionic stars 
who have come to town during the season. 

Presently, before the dishes are all washed, some 
of the neighbors drop in, and there are games and 
much chatter and laughter, and a pan of hot pop- 
corn and — who can blame them? — perhaps a 
pitcher of beer. 



Some Domestic Interiors 91 

In the rooms next to theirs you will find dirt and 
disorder, ragged, hollow-eyed children, the father 
sleeping off a drunken debauch. 

On the floor above is pandemonium. 

And little children are born into that atmosphere, 
and live in it, when a merciful Providence does not 
let them die. And when this class become very 
numerous in a city, the police are vigilantly alert in 
the neighborhood, and thoughtful people who have 
read history look grave, and wonder what the end 
will be. But within earshot of the profanity and the 
drunken revels is a sweet-faced little sewing-woman, 
in her tiny room ; she has had only bread and tea 
and a bit of cheese for her supper, but she says 
grace as devoutly after the repast as if it had been 
a feast. And after stitching away until her eyes and 
back ache wearily, she puts out her candle, and 
kneels before a little altar to say her prayers. The 
Litany of Our Lady does not come from a purer 
heart in all the parish than from that of the ill-paid, 
half-starving sewing-woman. 

Perhaps you have seen her in the church, or 
noticed her saintly expression as she passed up the 
aisle, in the long line of Sodality girls, to the com- 
munion railing. 

And it is the sewing-woman and her kind that 
bring hope to the social economist. 

In the thousands of homes within the parish 
limits, happy homes, sorrowful homes, among the 
rich and among the poor, the spirit of good and 
the spirit of evil often dwell side by side, with only 
a brick wall separating peace from despair. 



IX 

A PLEA FOR THE CHILDREN 

SO much sound advice has been given in recent 
years to parents that one would naturally ex- 
pect the present generation of little ones to be 
prodigies of goodness and charm, — a little lower, 
perhaps, than the angels, but certainly far superior 
to the infant phenomenon of earlier and less in- 
structed days. 

Yet one's acquaintance with children does not 
have to be very extensive to demonstrate that this 
is not the case. Parents are either very stupid, or 
else very heedless of the profuse counsels given to 
them. 

When one rubs against some of the common- 
place, little-souled women who have been intrusted, 
through some strange oversight of nature, with the 
high and holy office of motherhood, it is a matter 
of pleasant surprise that their children are not 
worse than they really are. 

Mother-instinct, perhaps, comes to the rescue 
when common-sense fails. There is no lack of care 
bestowed by these women on the physical well- 
being of their offspring, — the merits of various 
patent foods, the right temperature of baths, the 
best remedies for croup, are not unknown to them ; 



A Plea for the Children 93 

but they seem to overlook the little soul, fresh from 
the hands of its Creator, a jewel so rare, so precious, 
so beautiful that the angel guardian is never weary 
of watching over the treasure. 

The soul of a child is like some wonderful ala- 
baster clay, which can be moulded into shapes of 
exquisite beauty, or deformed and scarred and soiled. 
It is like a garden in which rarest flowers are planted. 

The saints and great doctors of the Church are 
never tired of trying to depict what the soul of a 
little child really is in the sight of God ; they have 
not spared the finest imagery, the most glowing 
terms. And yet it is treated in a way to make 
angels veil their faces. 

People touch lightly upon the spoiling of chil- 
dren, as if that were their normal fate. They are 
more grave when the spoiling of a horse is involved. 
The human spoiling begins before the little thing 
can even give articulate speech to its baby wants. 
The infant screams for the clock at the top of its 
vigorous young lungs, and to save herself trouble 
the mother yields; the child has learned its first 
lesson in strategy. As it grows older the tactics 
which won the clock are constantly employed to 
win other things. The little one cries for candy, 
and gets it, toddles into forbidden closets, and cries 
to avert reproof and punishment ; the boy wants to 
play with naughty boys across the street, and teases 
and whines until the mother's ^* no '* becomes an 
impatient ''yes." 

Yet that parent has probably heard a score of 
times that the primary law for the management of 



94 The People of Our Parish 

children is, to say '' yes " with discretion, and " no '^ 
with firmness. 

Miss Norrison dropped in for a cup of tea the 
other day, and, as no stranger was present, gave 
utterance to her candid opinions on the subject of 
children. 

'' I have just been to call at the Glovers'," she 
said, *^ and a brood of more ill-mannered Httle cubs 
it would be hard to find in a day's ride. Kitty 
Glover was my chum at school, but if I 'd thought 
that a friend of mine could develop into such an 
idiot mother, I should n't have attended her wedding. 

** The nurse had gone to the dentist's, and Kitty 
was walking the floor with the baby; Pauline was 
hammering with her fists on the piano, and Charles 
and Reggy were pummelling each other in the hall. 
Of course I felt decidedly out of place, and wanted 
to go away immediately, but Kitty would n't let me. 
Pauline left the piano and came over to see me, and 
I soon discovered that she had been eating candy, 
for her dirty, sticky fingers have ruined the front 
of my best Redfern frock. Reggy kicked the dog 
and set it to howling, the baby yelled in sympathy, 
and Charles proceeded to give his brother another 
thrashing," 

The senseless theories of some women as to the 
management of children are almost worse than no 
theories at all. One writer gravely puts forth the 
dictum that one should reason with a child, and 
make it see the wisdom of obedience, but never 
under any circumstances use force. If this prin- 
ciple were put into practice, all the Sunday-school 



A Plea for the Children 95 

books, as Miss Repplier points out, and the pleasing 
little anecdotes in the Readers, illustrative of the 
benefits to childhood of the virtue of obedience, 
would have to be destroyed, and a new set con- 
structed on radically different lines. 

Well brought-up children, in old-fashioned days, 
never dreamed that reasons were their due. It was 
the privilege of youth to lean on the wisdom of 
age, and to pursue the even tenor of its ways in 
the comforting conviction that the course decided 
by parental authority was best — or, at least irrev- 
ocable. 

Parents sometimes permit their children many 
hurtful privileges, and withhold some of their nat- 
ural rights. 

They act as if they considered their children to 
be a set of little fools. They teach them that it is 
wrong to tell falsehoods, and fib to them and before 
them without scruple. 

** There is that tiresome bill collector from Her- 
ford's ! Run to the door, Georgie, and tell him that 
papa is out of town." 

And if Georgie comes in a few days later and 
says that he had been kept in at school for spell- 
ing, when, as a matter of fact, he had been play- 
ing with the grocer's boy in the street, Georgie's 
mamma is hardly logical if she punishes him for 
falsehood. 

And if Georgie's papa laughs at him to-day for 
tying the cat to the parlor curtains, and whips him 
to-morrow for the same act, because the curtain 
happens to be torn in the second venture, Georgie 



96 The People of Our Parish 

is apt to lose that nice appreciation of the correla- 
tion of punishment and crime. 

Happy is that child who can accept as a reason, 
satisfying beyond all doubt, the simple phrase, 
** Mamma says so," secure in the conviction that 
mamma cannot lead him astray. 

Children are not always fortunate in the selection 
of their parents. Who has not known the mother 
who appealed unconsciously to the worst instincts 
in the little soul, developing the germs of evil 
planted in human nature at the Fall of Man. At 
dancing-school the Httle coquettes walk about in 
silks, casting admiring glances over their shoulders 
at their overdressed figures reflected in the mirrors, 
or looking disdainfully at those of their companions 
whose mothers have less money or more sense. At 
an early age they get their first lessons in snobbery. 

Eleanor Standish came home the other day and 
said that the girls had asked if her mamma were in 
society, and if her papa were rich. 

** Are you in society, mamma?" asked the child, 
innocently. 

As if a healthy-minded child would care to know 
more about another child than whether she could 
play games, and be depended upon to bring cara- 
mels with some degree of regularity to school ! 

Class distinctions and the burden of clothes be- 
long to a later and worldlier era of girl life. 

No mother can be censured for keeping her young 
daughter away from undesirable playmates, but pov- 
erty and obscurity should not be given as reasons 
for the exclusion. 



A Plea for the Children 97 

" Kathleen, you must n't play with the little girls 
next door; they are not polite/' and Kathleen, to 
whom politeness is a cardinal virtue, acquiesces at 
once. 

Small girls of ten have been heard to talk about 
their " sweethearts ; " and their mothers, standing 
by, thought them clever ! 

How many have had the beautiful innocence of 
their child souls tarnished through hearing all sorts 
of subjects discussed in their presence by a vulgar, 
unthinking mother and her friends ! Their percep- 
tion of evil develops even more rapidly than their 
perception of the good and true. 

A sensitive child may be frightened into serious 
nervous disorders by the gruesome tales of an igno- 
rant nurse, who sees the wondering eyes close in 
shuddering terror whilst she peruses a ''Beadle" 
novel. 

That child is to be envied whose mother has time, 
or who takes the time from less important things, 
to tell it all the dear delightful nursery tales that 
are forever after a heritage of joy. How quickly 
the tots learn the thrilling points, and how promptly 
they tell you that you have forgotten, if you attempt 
to interpolate a bit of original fiction ! 

And mingled with these old tales the Christian 
mother does not forget the beautiful legends and 
stories of the Infant Jesus, and the saints. 

As the child grows older it learns, in the guise of 
stories, and childhood is voracious for stories, the 
history of Jeanne d' Arc, St. Clotilde, St. Blanche, 
the knightly Crusaders, of Marquette preaching to 

7 



98 The People of Our Parish 

the Indians, of Columbus, Washington, Barry, 
Dewey. 

There is such a wealth of material for stories which 
the mother will utilize if she is wise, even if a ruffle 
the less must go on her small daughter's frock, or a 
few extra dollars be paid out for a sewing-woman. 

There is no more pernicious form of selfishness 
than that of the mother who neglects the hearts and 
minds of her children in order to minister to their 
bodily needs. A seamstress at a dollar a day can 
stitch aprons, but the wealth of the Klondike cannot 
procure a mother's teaching. 

What child ever forgets the prayer learned at its 
mother's knee? — 

'' Our Father; " '' Hail Mary ; " 

'' Angel of God, my guardian dear ; *' 

** Now I lay me down to sleep." 

The child that can sing a song and dance a skirt- 
dance, but cannot say its prayers, is an innocent 
witness to its mother's unworthiness. 

Those who have had much to do with children say 
that it is surprising the lively interest they take in 
their guardian angels. The idea that a beautiful 
unseen Presence is watching day and night, putting 
in a big black book all the naughty deeds, and re- 
cording in a book of gold the good, appeals vividly 
to the child nature. 

It is a common mistake to give children juvenile 
stories that have been *' written down " to their sup- 
posed intellectual level. A clever woman has 
entered vigorous protest against these colorless pro- 
ductions. ^* I was turned loose at twelve in a good 



A Plea for the Children 99 

library/' she said, ** and I had ' Ivanhoe ' and ' Quen- 
tin Durward ' and * David Copperfield,' and the great 
poets as my friends and guides to an enchanting 
realm." 

A child can be thrilled by the ringing cadences 
of martial verse, and the telling episodes of a great 
story, before it in the least comprehends their darker 
meaning or their philosophy, — before, indeed, it 
knows anything about philosophy. A child reads 
'* Robinson Crusoe,'' and ^* Don Quixote," for the 
story, and bothers its head very little about the 
moral which the elders find so apparent. 

Scott never harmed a healthy-minded child of 
twelve or fourteen. 

This question of what a child is to read is one of 
(J the gravest that confronts the anxious parent. 
• Never before since the printing-press came- into 
'-' existence, to be the greatest blessing and the great- 
est bane of civiHzation, has the danger been so 
alarming as now; cheapness of production has in- 
undated the land with a supply, and youth reads 
with avidity things that age would blush to touch. 

One poor child, a beautiful girl of fifteen, regu- 
larly buys and reads the Sunday edition of a New 
York yellow journal. It is as much beyond the pos- 
sible for that girl to be innocent-minded as it would 
be for a piece of paper buried in the mire to remain 
white. Her mother, when the fact was brought to 
her attention, said that '' she did not believe in the 
muzzle system for American girls. They would have 
to know evil in order to know how to shun it, and the 
sooner the knowledge was acquired, the better." 



I oo The People of Our Parish 

Poor child ! Unworthy mother ! 

If Herod slaughtered innocents, the daily papers 
slaughter innocence. The first crime is a trifle com- 
pared with the second. 

There is an admirable little manual called " Five 
Hundred Best Books " by Professor George Hardy, 
and mothers cannot do better than to consult this 
list. 

If so many dangers menace the child of opulence, 
what can be said of the poor little victims of the 
slums, children preternaturally old and unconsciously 
wicked? 

The privileges of the child depend upon the means 
and the opinions of its parents ; but every child has 
certain inalienable rights : it has the right to a wise 
control on the part of its parents ; to protection from 
evil ; to good books : to a Christian education ; to a 
sound mind in a sound body; and a noble soul. 



X 

THE BREAD-WINNERS 

NO woman goes out into the down-town busi- 
ness world simply because she wants to 
be there. The normal woman loves her home, 
and her social pleasures, and her clubs for intel- 
lectual improvement, too well to exchange them 
voluntarily for the industrial bondage of a salaried 
position. 

But the sensible woman realizes that any sort of 
work is a thousand times better than an unhappy 
marriage, and the unselfish one often chooses to earn 
a living rather than to be a burden on an overtaxed 
father or brother. 

Just now it is a fad for women who, for reasons 
of their own, do not wish to be married, to take up 
some line of work merely as a means of using their 
time profitably; but they do not select a field of 
labor where they must be at the beck and call of 
employers from eight in the morning until five or 
six in the evening. 

Writers, artists, singers, follow the bent of their 
genius because they must, — the impulse is in their 
souls and it is bound to find its legitimate expres- 
sion ; but this is no more than saying that a person 



to2 The People of Our Parish 

must be herself, and a talent is an integral part of 
one's being. 

But when a woman takes to raising mushrooms 
for the market, or lends her name to a millinery 
establishment, or paints dinner-cards, or vends choc- 
olate creams, she is doing it for money. 

And in this she is merely exercising her privilege 
as a sentient being, to which no one can object so 
long as she keeps within the bounds set by the laws 
of God and man and Mrs. Grundy. 

The favored daughters of genius hardly count 
in the vast army of stenographers, cashiers, clerks, 
who go forth to battle for bread because they would 
have to do without it if they did not. 

Our periodicals have given much space to the 
improvement, mental, moral, physical, of these 
bread-winners, but a casual glance around would 
go to show that those who need the advice do not 
take it; fortunately, the average wage-earner is 
quite capable of looking out for herself. 

Her hfe, even under the most favorable conditions, 
IS not an easy one, and if she sometimes fail in the 
struggle, a thrill of pity, rather than of reproach, 
should go out to her. Many a woman reared ten- 
derly in a happy home, shielded and protected from 
babyhood, has been forced by reverses, bereavement, 
business failures, to enter the lists, when she is ill- 
prepared to do battle with the forces there arrayed 
against her. To-day among the served, to-morrow 
forced to be of the servers. For these the struggle 
is doubly hard. 

The great body of the industrial army, however, 



The Bread-Winners 103 

are bred up to it, and get their first taste of the 
little luxuries of life when their salaries become an 
assured monthly fact. 

Those who have studied the question note with 
alarm a growing discontent in the ranks ; these 
women look at other women whose lives are sur- 
rounded with wealth, who can have diamonds and 
sealskins, trips abroad, and days of refined pleasure, 
when they must be in the treadmill of work ; they 
cannot see why others should have what is denied 
to them. The ideal of a spiritual and mental aris- 
tocracy does not appeal to them ; they eat out their 
souls in a longing for wealth, ease, pleasure. 

The bread-winners of this parish, however, do not 
look as if they were among the discontented ones. 
You see them once a month on the communion 
Sunday of the Young Ladies' Sodality, and as they 
march in line, over a hundred of them, so modest 
in demeanor, so innocent, so devout, they seem 
fairly to radiate piety around them. 

There is Miss Crosby at their head as prefect, — 
a briUiant, cultured woman, assistant principal in a 
large public school. She goes to Mrs. Dale's Shakes- 
peare Club, too, but that has not made her feel above 
the society of Our Lady's children. Pretty Katie 
Tynan, who clerks in a big retail shop, walks to 
the raihng with Mary Nolan, the cashier at the 
Windsor Hotel; near them, bright and natty, is the 
maid who opens the door and receives your card at 
Mrs. Greene's.^ One might think that the only true 
democracy, after all, is found within the CathoHc 
Church. 



I04 The People of Our Parish 

The good that this society has done is known only 
to God, and the guardian angels of the girls whose 
feet it has kept in the right path, whose wavering 
wills have been confirmed, their piety made strong, 
by the network of prayers and good deeds and wise 
counsel that it has put as a stay to weak souls. 
How many a one owes the preservation of her inno- 
cence to the influence which held her back from 
the first fatal step that counts so much ! 

A distinguished Unitarian minister has declared 
his belief that the confessional and the Sodalities of 
the Catholic Church have exerted a more widespread 
and beneficial influence than any other force in 
modern society. 

The bread-winner who is a devout child of Mary 
is usually both good and successful, and her success, 
in a measure, follows from her goodness. She 
accepts her lot in life as coming from the hand of 
God, and endeavors to make the best of it from the 
higher motive of following a Saviour who was poor 
on earth, and of saving her own soul ; she does her 
work in the very best way she can, and bears the 
hardships inseparable from it with a patient serenity 
which in time moves the hardest-hearted employer 
to increase her salary, or give her a promotion. 

If the discontented worker said less about her 
want of luck and realized more fully her want of 
merit, and then set about remedying the defect, her 
life would be more satisfactory to herself and to her 
employers. 

Among the failings which have been pointed out as 
pertaining to the working-girl, a love of tawdry finery, 



The Bread- Winners 105 

and an absence of taste and suitableness in attire are 
prominent; the clerks in the best shops are always 
styhshly gowned, and it is a marvel to women, who 
know the cost of clothes, how this result is encom- 
passed on their modest salaries. In some instances 
they have a mother who sews for them, and in others 
they take the time from morje important things to 
sew for themselves. A woman who is engaged all 
day has no business to take a needle in her hand, 
except to mend a glove or to sew on a button. In 
this era of really good ready-made things the problem 
of clothes is wonderfully simplified for the w^orker. 

This bit of conversation was overheard acciden- 
tally in a shop : *' You look pale to-day, Mamie. 
What 's the matter, — grippe ? " 

" Oh, no ; I was up until two o'clock fixing over 
the sleeves in my black silk. I had to cut them 
down, — they were large and old-fashioned, — and it 
was a bigger job than I reckoned for." 

And this girl had to rise at six o'clock, and stand 
on her feet until seven in the evening. No wonder 
she looked pale ! And small wonder if the customers 
who fell to her ministrations were not waited upon 
with that patience and suavity the average customer 
has come to expect. 

The fashion books give very sensible and full 
directions as to toilets for the busy working-woman. 

A hat of nodding plumes that makes a fearful hole 
in the purse, and loses its pristine freshness on the 
first damp morning, is not in good form as a head- 
covering for the stenographer who wears it, and 
thinks it beautiful. The light-colored kid gloves, 



io6 The People of Our Parish 

the fluffy silk waist, the gay colors should be 
reserved for her home and the homes of her friends, 
and not displayed in the office of her employer. 

Prudence as well as economy should counsel 
plainness in attire, for nothing sets waspish tongues 
agog more surely than a wage-earner dressed in the 
silks of the opulent daughter of wealth. 

Employers do not like to see a striking toilet; 
they do like neatness and exquisite freshness; in 
truth a man does not pay any especial attention to 
his stenographer's clothes, provided she is neat and 
tidy. 

A love of pretty clothes belongs to the eternal 
feminine, but, like some other loves, it should be 
held in bounds. Serge and not silk is for the shop 
and office. 

Thrift — which is quite a different thing from 
penuriousness — should be the darling virtue of the 
bread-winner. One can but marvel at the radi- 
cally different results obtained by two girls on a like 
salary. The one seems to know by a sort of sixth 
sense what to buy, and how and where ; she always 
looks well dressed, and she always has money ; the 
other, is perpetually in need of something, with 
never a cent ahead. 

Another count against the worker is the low in- 
tellectual plane on which she is content to dwell ; 
her opportunities for self-improvement are meagre, 
but such as she has she throws away. Books for 
her, as for the most of us, are the easiest path to 
knowledge and culture. It is disheartening to hear 
the testimony of librarians and book-sellers as to 



The Bread- Winners 107 

the sort of literature she absorbs, — novels, novels, 
novels, of the vulgarest, most commonplace kind. 
No one objects to her reading novels which take 
her out of her own gray surroundings, into the en- 
chanting realm where earls and duchesses move 
and have their gilded being ; but let the novels be 
well written, and by an author who knows whereof 
he writes, novels which will cultivate the intellect as 
well as enthrall the imagination. 

It is here that the parish reading-circle is getting 
in its splendid work. A girl who can be induced, 
for six months, to forsake the cheap, morbid fiction 
of her uncultivated, unformed days, and led to drink 
at the springs of pure literature, will never want to 
go back. 

The worker should remember, too, that in adding 
to her culture — and culture includes much more 
than a knowledge of books — she is adding to her 
usefulness, and, ultimately, to her worth in dollars 
and cents. 

The lady-like, gentle-voiced, well-read, neatly 
gowned young woman stands a better chance of 
promotion than the flashily dressed, slangy, boister- 
ous one, although both may do their work equally 
well. 

And, not least to be considered, she adds im- 
measurably to her chances of securing a good hus- 
band. The eligible young man may flirt with 
the larky, slangy girl, but he does not marry her. 

Another critic of the wage-earner objects to her 
manners. This criticism, of course, has nothing to 
do with the gentlewomen who are found in such 



io8 The People of Our Parish 

numbers in the ranks. It does apply to the girl 
who giggles in street cars, talks loud, laughs bois- 
terously, speaks of her '' gentlemen friends," writes 
notes on pink scented paper, and with a lavish use 
of capitals, and originalities in the way of spelling, 
picks up the latest slang and uses it freely, goes out 
with a young man to luncheon at a restaurant, per- 
mits him liberties which would disgust a gentleman, 
wears a profusion of cheap lace on a soiled silk 
bodice, and is fool enough to think that her em- 
ployer, if unmarried, is going to fall in love with 
her. 

A serious charge, and one affecting her comfort 
and usefulness, is that she does not understand how 
to take care of her physical well-being. She does 
not take proper exercise, nor breathe enough fresh 
air ; she eats indigestible pastry and munches cara- 
mels, when she should be eating Somebody's health 
food, and drinking rich milk ; she wears her stays 
and her shoes too tight; she sweeps the streets 
with her gown ; she puts so much money in a wrap 
for show that she has none left with which to buy 
underwear for comfort; sh-e does not know how to 
walk, and compresses her chest, thus rushing into 
consumption ; she does not understand the simplest 
remedies to be taken to ward off a cold or to avert 
an ache; she spends more money than she can 
afford on Madame Quack's lotions, and ruins her 
complexion in the attempt to make it beautiful ; 
she bleaches her hair, if she be a blonde, until she 
looks like a ballet-dancer off duty. 

And the remedy? What would be the use of 



The Bread- Winners 109 

indicating the disease if one were not going to point 
out the cure. A rehable manual of etiquette will 
give the essentials of good usage, and a bright girl, 
using her eyes when with well-bred people, can 
learn very rapidly; in the matter of physical cul- 
ture another manual, supplemented by the number- 
less articles in the magazines, and, better still, by 
a course in physical culture, will save her many ills. 

To sum up the principal points: the bread-win- 
ner is urged to shun slang, trashy fiction, showy 
dress, bad manners, and bad grammar. She is 
urged to join without delay the parish Sodality, and 
the reading-circle, to take a ticket in the parish 
library and one in the public library, to set apart 
a sum of money for the purchase of books of her 
own, to take proper exercise, and to keep good 
company. 

The last injunction is not always easy. The 
wage-earner, who has not already a little circle of 
friends, is not going to find it easy to form one. 
There is no use in denying the palpable fact that 
a woman who works in a shop, or sits at a cashier's 
desk, is not asked to homes that gladly welcome the 
young man in the same position. 

She has the natural longing of youth for pleasure 
and social relaxation, and faiHng to get it where she 
has the right to expect it, she sometimes seeks it in 
company that is not very good. 

It is claimed that by joining the bread-winners 
a woman seriously jeopardizes her chances of 
marrying advantageously, or of marrying at all. 
This is partly because her opportunities for meeting 



1 1 o The People of Our Parish 

young men are small, and also because the modern 
man is not averse to marrying a little money and a 
secure social position. 

The most serious charge of all brought against 
women who work is, that by increasing competition 
so enormously, they have reduced salaries to a point 
where a man cannot marry, at least for years, on 
what he earns. A woman will work for less than 
will a man, so a woman gets the position, and a 
man goes begging for work. A strenuous opposer 
of woman's entering the industrial field says that, 
twenty years ago, a young man received as much as 
is now earned by both himself and his. sister, and 
that if the girls would stay at home, devoting them- 
selves to home duties, the old condition would 
return. 

This does not apply to the woman who has no 
home, and no brother to work for her. 

Employers say that, in many cases, the reason why 
a woman receives poorer pay is because she gives 
poorer service. A man goes into a business and 
expects to make a life vocation of it; a woman 
works merely until she can get a husband to save 
her the necessity. Consequently the one reaches 
a point of excellence not even striven for by the 
other. 

Those who have studied the question claim that 
w^omen behind the counter are not so courteous 
as men, and that, therefore, shoppers prefer to be 
waited upon by men. 

A sensible little woman, who is now- in charge of 
a department, said, in speaking of this : ^* I learned 



The Bread-Winners 1 1 1 

early in my business life to practise a uniform 
courtesy. Some clerks act as if they considered 
a customer as a troublesome stranger to be got rid 
of as soon as possible, with no thought of ever 
seeing her again. I went on the principle that she 
was a native of the city in which I expected to 
earn my living, and that if I succeeded in pleasing 
her she might easily be made a regular customer, 
not only of my special department, but of my 
own. A woman may pull down and overhaul 
things mercilessly to-day, but if you are attentive 
and courteous, and do not intimate that she is doing 
anything unusual or troublesome, the chances are 
that to-morrow she will return and purchase; and 
the chances, too, are strong that she will hold off 
from the other clerks, and wait for you. I have 
found that women like to have time to make up 
their minds before purchasing, and if a clerk is 
the least impatient with a customer's vagaries she 
is apt to go to another shop to supply her needs. 
At least, this is the theory that I have acted upon, 
and to-day I am at the head of the department 
where I commenced on a very low salary." 

At its best the life of the bread-winner is not 
easy. One cannot but admire the quiet dignity, 
the patient sweetness with which not a few of these 
workers, ladies born and bred, many of them, go 
about their daily tasks. 

As a rule it is not the women of gentle birth 
who rail at fate for their reverses, and wring the 
hearts of their friends with longings for better days. 
In how many avenues of industry one finds the 



1 1 2 The People of Our Parish 

daughters of the old South, working bravely, earn- 
ing less than their grandmothers spent for gloves 
and bonbons ! 

We hear much of the overcrowding along cer- 
tain lines of human industry. There are too many 
teachers, musicians, journalists, artists, stenogra- 
phers, clerks ; indeed, it would be puzzling to 
name a branch of work where there are not too 
many workers. 

A woman cannot be blamed, any more than a 
man, for seeking the easiest work, and that which 
is best suited to her talents. 

The curse of the times is the lack of quality in 
work. 

Excellence succeeds where mediocrity fails. 
There are too many laborers, but the supply 
of skilled workers is not at all adequate to the 
demand. 

Said an employer : '' I can put an advertisement 
in the paper, and get a hundred applicants from 
stenographers willing to work for ten dollars a 
week, and not worth any more, where I would 
find a difficulty to get one worth twenty dollars. 
Yet it is the twenty-dollar kind I want." 

Certain work is considered ladylike, and other 
occupations something else. For instance, the 
South worships intellect, or the old South wor- 
shipped it, and anything that calls out purely 
intellectual power is respected ; the teacher, the 
musician, the writer, go into the best society, ride 
in the carriages of the social leaders, and are fre- 
quent and welcome guests in drawing-rooms where 



The Bread-Winners 1 1 3 

the clerk, or the cashier, would not be received. 
As a consequence a Southern woman who must 
work thinks first of being a teacher, although she 
may not have the slightest aptitude for this honor- 
able and difficult calling. 

As woman advances in general culture, and mas- 
ters her reserve forces, she will forge her way, by 
sheer ability and pluck, into wider and better-paid 
channels. Instead of being the employed, she will 
become the employer of labor. Already she is at 
the head, where a few years ago she would not 
have dreamed of any but a subordinate place. 

She may hesitate before working at all, but if 
she must or will, she is going to work to the best 
advantage. 

The day will soon be at end when a woman will 
accept fifty dollars where a man would demand 
one hundred; and the new era will mean an in- 
crease in prosperity for both the man and the 
woman. 

Already she is learning to claim nothing on the 
score of sex; then why should she give anything? 
If she does not plead a woman's weakness to off- 
set inferior work, but bravely gives the best, why 
should she not have the highest rate of wage ? 

'' I had to let Miss Smith go, because she upset 
our office by working on the sympathies of every- 
body in it,'' said a commission merchant. ** She 
was deHcate, and looked it, and I had n't the heart 
to insist on promptness in getting out my mail. 
When she came late, with great hollows under the 
eyes, I had to act as if I had not noticed the hour. 

8 



1 14 The People of Our Parish 

But I required a strong, capable stenographer, who 
needed no sympathy; so Miss Smith lost a good 
position/' 

As yet it is sadly true that women are doing the 
world's drudgery. They fill the hard, subordinate, 
ill-paid places everywhere. They do far more work, 
for greatly less pay, than men. There are many 
who contend that she was created to be a subor- 
dinate. If that be true she has filled the end of 
her creation in a way that leaves nothing to be 
desired on the score of subordination. 

Others insist that, given an equal field, with no 
handicap, she can compete with man in any sphere 
of intellectual activity. She has not done so in the 
past, whatever she may do in the future. 

Not infrequently the woman bread-winner makes 
her life harder than it really needs to be. Where 
the man, outside of business hours, seeks relaxation 
and gives himself up to absolute leisure, the woman 
slaves over her needle, or in the kitchen, and hardly 
dreams of pleasure, except in the form of a paper 
novel, read in an ill-ventilated, sunless back room. 
No woman can do the work of one man and two 
women, and when she tries it she soon breaks down, 
and must pay out for medicine, and relief from ex- 
cruciating pain, the money that ought to have gone 
to a seamstress or a cook, and to procure the legiti- 
mate pleasures of existence. The pain gets worse, 
the medicines more costly, until at last there is a 
quiet funeral, just when the woman ought to have 
been in her prime. 

Happy is the wage-earner who has her own 



The Bread- Winners 1 1 5 

home ; if she have not this blessing the greatest 
care and prudence are necessary in the choice of a 
boarding-house. Here it is that the CathoHc girl 
finds invaluable assistance in her pastor, who can 
usually recommend a safe and suitable place. The 
attractions of a fashionable street and a well-fur- 
nished parlor too often offset rather questionable 
fellow-boarders. 

What the young girl needs on beginning a career 
in the working world is a wise, prudent counsellor; 
and what she absolutely must have, if she would not 
make shipwreck of her higher nature, is a strong, 
clear, luminous faith. 

'* A woman without religion is like a flower with- 
out perfume," said a philosopher; and a bread- 
winner without religion is treading very near to a 
precipice. 

The girl of eighteen does, through ignorance and 
thoughtlessness, the deeds that the woman of twenty- 
eight bewails with unavailing tears. 

The wisdom of the serpent and the innocence of 
the dove should be hers, if she wish to steer clear 
of pitfalls ; and what young girl can be expected 
to have these? 

She can have religion, which is better than either, 
and which yet includes both ; and an angel guard- 
ian was placed over her to give inspiration where 
wisdom fails. 



XI 

THE PASSING YEARS 

THAT wise old worldling, Lord Chesterfield, 
has left his testimony as to the inestimable 
value of time, and the futile remorse with which old 
age looks back upon wasted years ; and he was but 
repeating, in a different form, the wisdom of Solomon 
and the teaching of the gospel, — a truth which 
everybody sooner or later finds out for himself. 

If precept could but take the place of experience 
what a golden era would be the heritage of the 
present generation ! 

Faber says : '' Count all years wasted that are not 
lived for God." 

What must have been the anguish of that saintly 
soul at the sight of the desolate ruins of wasted 
years, crumbling along the pathway to eternity ! 

And the frankly hedonistic views of life professed, 
or at least practised, by men and women '* on whose 
heads have fallen the snow that never melts," fill 
rational beings with uneasy wonder. 

'^ Old age without God," says a philosopher, *' is 
the most profoundly sad spectacle in the world." 

Some such thoughts as these had overflowed un- 
consciously into speech. 

" You are thinking of Mrs. Perry, I know," inter- 
polated Miss Norrison, who has the way of read- 



The Passing Years 1 17 

ing your mind and interpreting it with surprising 
accuracy. 

I was thinking of Mrs. Perry, and of some others 
just like her. 

Mrs. Perry is a woman of sixty-five who has had 
everything that she wanted all her life — well, not 
quite that, for nobody ever has all she wants, but all 
that a reasonable being ought to want in the way 
of life's luxuries. Cradled in wealth, married to 
greater wealth, she has lived more like a princess 
than an American woman with duties to perform. 

Her energies, so far as any one can see, have been 
used to encompass ease and pleasure, and banish 
trouble. Other rich women have founded asylums, 
looked after the poor, regulated their households, 
stood in the vanguard of intellectual and moral 
forces, — in a word, used their leisure and means for 
noble ends. But Mrs. Perry has been conspicuously 
absent in all these avenues of human endeavor. If 
her tombstone is truthful it will record the facts that 
she was noted for giving sumptuously extravagant 
entertainments, and for having introduced English 
liveries for the coachman and the footman into her 
native city. Of course she has given to charities, 
and sometimes her checks have been rather large, 
for nobody not a savage is entirely free from the 
virtue of charity; but she has never been known to 
give anything of herself, anything that might cost a 
personal effort. Her religious practices are hmited 
to going to church on Sundays, and permitting her 
maid to attend five o'clock Mass and late vespers; 
she keeps Lent by hieing away to Florida, or 



1 1 8 The People of Our Parish . 

Bermuda, or Nice, playing cards in the evening, 
sleeping until ten o'clock in the morning, and in 
resigning herself into the hands of a complexion 
specialist during a good portion of the day, and in 
eating all the dainties that a complacent doctor 
recommends in the way of fruits and fresh meats. 
Those who know her well say that she is as su- 
premely selfish in private life as she is in her social 
relations. She made brilliant marriages for her 
daughters, one of whom, by the way, is divorced and 
back on her hands ; settled her sons in life, after they 
had sowed an unusually large crop of wild oats, and 
is now chasing around to parties with a numerous 
brood of granddaughters ; if she has ever practised 
an act of self-denial, of pure kindness and considera- 
tion not imposed by the laws of society, no one 
knows anything of the deed. 

It is amusing to hear another old woman, as selfish 
and worldly as Mrs. Perry, differing from her but in 
degree, merely because her circumstances are more 
circumscribed, berating the richer woman soundly 
for wasted opportunities. 

Mrs. Scott is just as lax in keeping the fasts of the 
Church, just as absorbed in pleasure, as ease-loving, 
as callous to the cries of the poor as Mrs. Perry. She 
is scandalized at the richer woman because she does 
not endow a chair at the Catholic University at 
Washington, and herself gives fifty cents to the 
seminary collection ; she rails at Mrs. Perry for 
spending her time at fashionable functions, and 
devotes her own days to the reading of the trashiest 
novels, her afternoons to running about among the 



The Passing Years 1 1 9 

shops, her evenings to playing cards. She married 
her daughter to an atheist able to set up a carriage, 
and Mrs. Perry mated hers to a roue attached to a 
title. 

And there is Mrs. Noonan, who lives in a flat, and 
occasionally assists her husband in his grocery store 
below, envying Mrs. Scott, and virtuously censuring 
her wanton luxury, the while spending her own scant 
leisure in fashioning a bonnet or gown, exhibiting 
herself in the streets, spending her dimes for the 
most sensational papers, neglecting her children, and 
dreaming of what she would do with Mrs. Scotf s 
larger opportunities. 

And as for the epicurean old men one sees or 
hears of — their numbers do not support the theory 
of superior masculine intelligence. 

Only a block away from St. Paul's lives Robert 
Deering, the capitalist, — Robert the Great, the news- 
papers dub him, — the man who puts a price on 
wheat before it is harvested, dictates wages to ten 
thousand people, and helps to name the President 
of the United States. All his life he has had to do 
with large issues, and yet he has a soul so small that 
a million hke it could sit on the little end of a brick. 
The world to him is a battle-field, not for the old 
battles waged by the saints against the world, the 
flesh, and the devil, but a battle-field for money, just 
money. Because money can do so much, he thinks 
that it can do all. He himself is a potent illustration 
of its power, and so it has come to be his god. 
Sometimes he pities, when he has the time for pity, 
the myriads of toilers who can never hope for wealth, 



1 20 The People of Our Parish 

not even for a competence, and shudders at the 
thought that such might have been his own fate. Far 
better to die ! 

He regards the toilers about him as a seething 
mass of envy and discontent, of fierce longing and 
futile wrath, kept from the throats and the coffers of 
the rich by the strong arm of the law\ He cannot 
conceive of any happiness that does not grow out of 
the possession of wealth. 

From his office, in a towering beehive of a building, 
he can look out upon church steeples rising over 
the smoky city; and the great library, built and 
endowed by a rich man some years dead, is but a 
few rods distant; near his own beautiful home, in the 
flower-lined boulevard, a university stands as a 
reminder and a monument to man's intellectual side. 
But to Robert Deering these give not a tithe of the 
satisfaction and confidence inspired by the blue- 
coated policemen who patrol the beat below his 
office. He does not believe in the correlation of 
moral forces represented by education and the 
Church. A good police system is much better. 

Men may go to church on Sunday, the poor devils 
have no other place to go, but on Monday see that 
your cash drawer is locked. 

This is what life has done for Robert Deering — 
it has given him money and robbed him of an ideal ! 

Does that man ever realize his predominant 
passion? 

If he should ever examine his conscience, which he 
never does, having all that he can do to examine 
his ledger, he would rise from his knees with a 



The Passing Years 1 2 1 

Pharisaical belief in his own virtue. He does not 
drink to excess — his physician long ago pointed out 
to him the danger in that line ; he is not a glutton, 
— the pangs of indigestion speak in no uncertain 
tone ; he has not broken any of the laws laid down 
by civil society for its preservation and welfare. He 
has used his brains and his opportunities to amass 
wealth, and has succeeded over the heads of the 
envious millions who have failed ; he uses his money 
to. obtain for himself the greatest amount of com- 
fort and pleasure and adulation. He calls it hap- 
piness; but can any man know happiness who 
beHeves that there is not a man or woman living who 
cannot be bought? who Hves amidst flowers and 
never sees them, surrounded with books that are 
sealed to his intellect? — a man near seventy who 
must recall with a shudder that the best part of his 
life is over, and that each day brings him nearer to 
his grave, either a grave of annihilation, in which he 
prefers to believe, or else to the portal of that un- 
known world to which he cannot carry a penny of 
all his millions, where he will have to stand among 
the throngs he has despised, no whit more power- 
ful than they, and take his chances for eternity 
measured by the records of his past? Robert Deer- 
ing does not look Hke a happy man. 

There seems to be a widespread idea that when peo- 
ple grow old they will grow virtuous. Either no one 
ever acknowledges himself old, or else the habits of 
years cannot be broken in a day. Students of human 
nature find that the old man and the old woman are 
usually but a fulfilment of the promise of middle age. 



122 The People of Our Parish 

The scandals in which old men figure ought to 
redden the printers' ink with shame. 

An old man was heard to declare that he had but 
two objects in life : to eat a good dinner every day, 
and to avoid rheumatism. 

Another, who has not been to church for thirty 
years, says that he has no time for religion, but 
after he gets a little more money he will retire and 
think of such things. 

The picture would be terrible were it not for the 
examples of serene and beautiful old age that 
crowd the canvas, and hide the skulking faces of 
the wrinkled and gray-haired hedonists. 

Only last year St. Paul's was called upon to 
mourn the demise of a saintly old gentlewoman, 
cut down in her prime at eighty-six, who left be- 
hind her ninety-seven descendants, not one of the 
number but who is a credit to her memory. Sons 
and grandsons are priests at the altar; she saw a 
great-granddaughter receive the veil as a Sister of 
Charity; one daughter died a nun, in harness, so 
to speak, as the superior of an Indian Mission 
School; another is a cloistered nun, whilst several 
granddaughters are making the world better in vari- 
ous convents. And in a score of happy Christian 
homes her own life and virtues are repeated in the 
persons of her descendants. One son was mayor of 
the city, and made a record by the honesty and 
civic prosperity of his administration ; another is a 
banker; her daughters married into fine old fami- 
lies, and their husbands are worthy of them. As 
for her charities, even her good angel must have 



The Passing Years 123 

been kept busy recording them, — sacrifices of little 
luxuries for the poor, bright boys educated for the 
ministry, orphanages and schools and homes for the 
aged, that never appealed in vain to her generous 
purse. 

There is Mrs. Chatrand, in her youth the most 
beautiful woman of her city, sweet, pious, gentle, 
noble, responding fully to all the demands upon 
her, — a devoted mother, a leader in the great world, 
a ministering angel in the purlieus of poverty. 

Some writer has said that if you wish to see the 
fine flower of piety blossoming in all its beauty in 
aristocratic soil, you must go to France, and to the 
old chateaux that have nursed it for centuries. 
One need only go to their descendants in America, 
to see how saintly can be the children of that fair 
land which is called '' the Dowry of Our Lady." 

But piety knows no boundary lines, no distinction 
of blood ; the Christian gentlewoman has certain 
inalienable characteristics, whether the blood in her 
veins be French or German, Irish or English, or a 
fusion of many kinds, as in the average American. 

The procession of gray hairs is always before us, 
a potent sermon on the shortness of life and what 
must be its end ; now and again a familiar form 
drops out, carrying either a precious treasury of 
golden deeds or the black record of a squandered 
life. 

If history is '' philosophy teaching by example,'* 
it is also something more. It is a magic mirror 
which shows two pictures and says, '^ Choose." 

It shows us Washington, the great patriot, dying 



I 24 The People of Our Parish 

the idol of the country he had saved ; and it shows 
us another George, the narrow, egotistical, sensual, 
Hanoverian monarch, with the gray ashes of pas- 
sion's volcanoes polluting the atmosphere of his 
death chamber, and choking the tendrils of every 
pure aspiration. 

It shows us Caligula, bent and furrowed by the 
wickedness of nearly seventy years, resigning him- 
self to debaucheries which made the very name of 
his island home a horror, and dying in his sins at 
the hands of a faithless praetorian. It shows us 
Charlemagne also expiring at seventy, happy in 
the consciousness that he was leaving the world 
better than he found it, a great monarch and a 
great man, his last hours consoled by the religion 
he had loved and championed so valiantly. 

It shows us Louis IX. dying the death of a saint, 
and if it does not show us Louis XV. dying the 
death of a sinner, it is because of the heroic sacrifice 
of a loving daughter, who offered up her life amidst 
the austerities of a Carmelite convent for that 
father's conversion. 

It shows us Elizabeth, the dissolute daughter of 
Henry the Monster, expiring on a pallet on the 
floor, despair written on her aged features, and the 
shameful deeds of her seventy years confronting 
her glassy eyes ; it shows us Isabella the Great, the 
wise ruler of Castile, forever immortal as an instru- 
ment in the discovery of a new world, equally 
worthy of renown as the most learned woman, and 
the ablest monarch of her time, and as an example 
of the most beautiful qualities of her sex. 



The Passing Years 125 

But we need not look to bygone centuries for 
parallels. 

We have our own great Leo, the Lion of the 
Vatican, unequalled among modern statesmen, un- 
surpassed among scholars, unmatched as an ex- 
emplar of every Christian and priestly virtue. A 
few rods away is Crispi, the plotting, self-seeking, 
conscienceless minister, discredited in his old age, 
his plots coming to nought, the shadow of a great 
scandal darkening his declining years. We have 
Gladstone, spared so long to the world that does 
him reverence, passing away near the ninetieth 
landmark, in the aroma of a glorious career; the 
end of the eighteenth century closed over the new- 
made grave of Voltaire, the scoffing cynic who gave 
his long Hfe, and splendid talents, to the overthrow 
of the temple of religion in the souls of thousands 
of his fellow-men. 

The last decade of the nineteenth century saw 
two nations in tears for Manning and Newman, and 
the centuries to come will be the richer because of 
the genius and heroic virtues of these princes of the 
Church, who devoted their lives, both reaching well 
into the eighties, to the good of souls and the 
betterment of the world. Cardinal Wiseman, the 
great Archbishop of Westminster, whose hfe had 
known care and sorrow, said, as he lay dying in 
his simple, bare room, '' I feel hke a schoolboy 
going home for the long vacation." 

And if these great ones seem too remote for or- 
dinary humanity's imitation, we have but to look 
around us to see genuine piety in every walk of life. 



I 26 The People of Our Parish 

There is the great financier stealing in to St. Paul's 
on his way home, for a few moments' meditation be- 
fore the Tabernacle ; and close behind him is a crip- 
pled old apple-woman, who would not commit a 
deliberate sin for the whole wide, beautiful world. 

Now and again one passes in the crowd a hag 
whose face bears the stamp of shameless vice, a 
matron with hard, cruel lines about the mouth and 
eyes, a furrowed roue whose soul has been caught 
in the matrix of his own evil deeds. 

And when these pass, the sun for a moment seems 
to shine less brightly. 

*' The young may die, the old must." 

*' As ye live, so shall ye die." 



XII 

CHEERFUL GIVERS 

MR. WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS, in his 
own inimitable way, has recorded some of 
the vicissitudes and experiences of ** a cheerful 
giver." 

A great deal of perverting socialism has been put 
forth under cover of the Golden Rule, '' Do unto 
others as you would have them do unto you," 
This rule binds no one to the caprices of gener- 
osity which selfish humanity would like to bring 
about, from those more favored than themselves in 
worldly goods. The tramp might wish with all his 
heart that the millionaire would divest himself of 
his millions and hand them over to him, but a re- 
fusal on the part of the millionaire could not be 
interpreted to mean a violation of the golden pre- 
cept. As it is a poor rule that does not work both 
ways, a fair test is a reversal of positions ; wish from 
another what you would give were he in your place, 
and you in his. 

Explained by theologians, the precept binds one 
to that which justice, honor, and Christian brother- 
hood dictate. It forbids one to cheat, to oppress, 
to overreach, to take advantage of the ignorance 
or helplessness of another, to make unjust laws, to 
grind down the wage of labor, to demand long hours 



128 The People of Our Parish 

from laborers. It goes further than strict justice, 
and commands charity. It does not mean that the 
worker, the provident, the clear-brained, are to strip 
themselves of the results of their work to give to the 
idle, or even to the unfortunate. If this were so, 
where would be the incentive to industry? 

The laborer is worthy of his hire, and this is as 
true in one field of work as in another. 

Yet, if this beautiful rule were practised only on 
its broad, legitimate lines, reserving charity for de- 
pendent little children, the aged, and the sick, the 
world would soon be transformed into something 
very like an anteroom to Paradise. 

The virtue of charity and its contrary vice, op- 
pression, are opposing forces that were strong in the 
beginning of time, and are growing stronger every 
day. No other virtue and no other vice are so uni- 
versally found as these. They flourish side by side ; 
and, strange and paradoxical as it may sound, they 
are sometimes practised by the same person. 

A man \v\\l give millions to found a university or 
establish a library, and grind down the laborers 
under him to a wage that means but a degree above 
starvation. A woman will serve on a hospital 
board, and show no consideration to a poor little 
house-maid ready to drop with fatigue. Another 
will make an eloquent plea for a home for working- 
women, and force a dressmaker's apprentice to come 
to her house half a dozen times for the amount of 
her bill. She will give a quarter to a beggar, and 
hurry on her way to purchase garments put together 
in sweaters' shops. But avarice in petty things is 



Cheerful Givers 129 

said to be the vice of women. Bill collectors will 
testify from the fulness of experience that it is also 
the vice of men. 

If capital gives to labor its smallest moiety, labor 
pays back in kind, and seeks to render as little in 
return for the largest wage possible. 

When one hears the recurring tales of incompe- 
tency and untrustworthiness, slovenly work and 
constant shirking, it is easy to see why capital 
grows a little hard. 

Where the rule is, " An honest day's work for an 
honest day's pay,'' the wheels of society run in 
smoother grooves. And this obtains, not because 
supply and demand compel it, but simply because 
honor and justice, handmaidens of Christianity, are 
satisfied with nothing less. Anarchists rail at the 
luxuries of capitalists, but take care not to put into 
the common fund the luxuries that come to them- 
selves. 

Many of the saints have given the example of 
that heroic charity which sacrifices every possession 
for the poor, and casts its lot with the lowly, becom- 
ing as the least, in imitation of the divine Master of 
all ; but this is a plenitude of good works not re- 
quired of every one. 

People are oftentimes much more kindly disposed 
towards the unfortunate than they are credited with 
being — heartsick in a sealskin jacket at sight of the 
beggar in rags. 

Said one of these pure saints to her confessor: 
*' Father, how can I save my soul surrounded with 
luxury and comfort, a carriage and servants, and 

9 



130 The People of Our Parish 

jewels and laces, and a round of pleasure, when 
people about me are starving and cold, and herded in 
hovels that even my dogs would disdain? I wake 
in the night sometimes and wonder, if I should die 
in the midst of the luxuries that have always been 
my portion, whether God would let me come into 
His Presence. I recall the text, * What ye do to the 
least of these little ones ye have done unto Me/ 
Now of course if Our Lord were really on earth, it 
would be my greatest happiness, my most blessed 
privilege, to throw everything at His feet ; but, to be 
honest with myself, I know that I do not want to 
give everything to the poor, except just the bare 
necessities. I should n't want to receive a starving 
tramp into my house, nor give up my carriage, and 
my summers abroad, and live in a tenement and 
work for my living; yet I am stronger, and more 
able to work than many who are working for me." 

And the girl was deeply in earnest in her scruples. 

The clergyman succeeded in bringing a ray of 
comfort into her troubled soul. She had inherited 
her fortune from her father, who had acquired it 
honestly, without cheating or oppressing any one. 
His fortune was rightfully his own, and therefore 
his to dispose of, within the limits set by the laws 
of God and of man, as he saw fit He had left it to 
his children ; through the providence of God it was 
theirs, theirs not to hoard, but to use wisely. The 
money they spent was not a waste ; it was put into 
circulation, it stimulated trade ; some was paid to 
the poor for service ; it went for pictures and bene- 
fited art, for music and helped musicians ; so long 



Cheerful Givers 131 

as luxury did not degenerate into self-indulgence, 
nor pagan excess, nor oppression in the smallest 
farthing, so long it was innocent. 

The girl went away comforted, but not long after- 
wards she followed the dictates of her heart, and, 
rehnquishing everything of this world, gave herself 
and her fortune to the service of God's poor, and 
found peace and happiness as a Sister of Charity. 

Unfortunately it is not often that a confessor has 
to deal with a conscience that is so scrupulous in its 
dictates of charity; the tendency is far more apt 
to be in the opposite direction ; people spend 
recklessly for luxuries and dole out niggard sums 
for charity. 

Yet there are always the army of devoted ones to 
shame the unfeeling. Brilliant young beauties, and 
dainty matrons, devote time and money and execu- 
tive ability to the different charities, soothe the sick 
in hospitals, visit the poor in their hovels, labor 
indefatigably to give food and clothes to the little 
ones ; one girl does without candy to save for the 
poor, another paints dinner-favors, another sews a 
day out of every week; one gives a tenth of her 
allowance to a hospital, another goes without a new 
ball-gown, and sends the price to the fresh-air fund. 
The rich do not advertise their charities, and never 
in this world will the vast extent of their good works 
be known, — the poor famiHes supported, the hospi- 
tals and asylums maintained, the deserving helped 
to positions, the clever boys and girls educated and 
given a chance to become something, — in a word, 
of the millions of dollars that pass from the purses 



132 The People of Our Parish 

of comfort to the pockets of distress. We read of 
a Queen Elizabeth of Hungary giving all to the 
poor, of a Lady FuUerton going without gloves and 
spending her days in the service of the poor, of a 
Frederick Ozanan's far-seeing charity to the poor 
of Paris, of a St. Martin dividing his cloak with a 
beggar, of a Madame de Maintenon founding and 
supporting a free school for girls, of the patrician 
St. Cecilia stealing through the streets of Rome on 
her missions to the poor, of the flower of the French 
nobility parishing in a bazaar for charity ; but these 
devoted lives are duplicated every day around us, 
and we do not know of them, — we do not see the 
charity that conceals from the left hand the good 
deeds of the right. 

And how much of the poverty in the world comes 
through vice, rather than misfortune — through 
drunkenness, laziness, improvidence, ignorance, in- 
competency, and general untrustworthiness ! Skilled 
labor is always in demand. It is the man or woman 
who can do many things indifferently, and who does 
not care about doing anything, who is oftenest in 
want ; not the people who can do one thing well. 

Others, again, are selfishly, perhaps unconsciously, 
penurious. ** I wish that we lived in another 
parish," said a censorious one, returning from Mass. 
** Here we hear nothing but money, money, money ! 
It is give, give, from January to December. The 
orphans, the hospital, the missions, the seminary, 
the Holy Land, the school, the parish debt, the 
charity fund, until one never has a cent that one 
can call one's own ! '' 



Cheerful Givers 



133 



''My dear/' replied the Old Member, ''you should 
consider it your dearest privilege to be allowed to 
contribute to any or to all of these beautiful objects. 
Have you ever considered that it is not through any 
merit of your own, but only the providence of God, 
that you are not in a condition to require charity 
rather than to be able to give — that you are not 
a friendless little orphan, or a cripple in a charity 
ward of a hospital, or a blind beggar, or a delicate 
girl seeking for work. Be thankful that you can 
give ! " 

The different ways of looking at charity, that 
virtue so dear to Our Lord, afford some curious 
and interesting bits of soul study. 

Who has not seen the people, men and women 
well dressed, who Sunday after Sunday pay their 
pittance for a seat, rather than rent a pew in their 
parish church? 

Said one of this brigade, " We can't afford a pew 
in the middle aisle, and we wont go to the side aisle 
with the riff-raff!" 

Just as if one could not hear Mass from the side 
aisle as well as from the centre ! And the disdain- 
ful one was quite unconscious that " riff-raff" more 
adequately described the perambulating, shirking 
members, like herself, than the honest poor who were 
doing their duty towards the support of their 
church, and who had too much self-respect to come 
as unattached flotsam. 

A beautiful, serene old gentlewoman said : " I am 
always glad to find, when travelling abroad, a box 
to receive the offerings of the faithful towards keep- 



134 The People of Our Parish 

ing in repair those glorious old-world Cathedrals. 
It is very like being permitted to share in a per- 
petual act of adoration. And what is a Cathedral 
but a prayer in stone and an act of adoration? All 
that is beautiful in nature, all that is noblest in 
art are gathered and placed there in perpetual 
service of the Creator of all. When God sees the 
wickedness of the world and in His justice is 
tempted to send some retributive calamity on the 
nations, those beautiful churches, enshrining the 
Blessed Sacrament, lift up their spires as if pleading 
for mercy, pleading potently during all the long 
centuries. And those who contribute to them, if 
only a few cents saved from some little luxury 
denied, must feel a thrill of noble pride at the 
sight of the beautiful temple they have helped to 
erect or preserve. What a blessed privilege to 
contribute towards the splendor of the dwelling- 
place of the Most High!" 

People ask, Americans especially, *^ What is the 
sense " — we are a nation of sense, it is one of our 
failings — *^ of the costly piles that dot Europe, and 
that are seldom if ever filled with people, glorious 
temples with their mass of exquisite carving, much 
of it not even visible?" It might perhaps be a hope- 
less task to explain to a thorough utiHtarian that 
the beauty of the churches is for the eyes of the 
All-seeing God, that it is an act of adoration and 
gratitude on the part of creatures to the Giver of 
all good gifts. The utilitarians of apostolic times 
murmured at the waste of ointment, which Magdalen 
poured out on the head of our Saviour. 



Cheerful Givers i 3 5 

The matchless splendor of St. Peter's, the Cathe- 
dral of Milan, that poem in stone, the ideally beauti- 
ful gothic spires at Cologne, gorgeous St. Mark's, 
rising over the Venetian sea, the simple grandeur 
of the duomo at Florence which Dante loved, and 
Savonarola must have rejoiced to see, — all these 
serve for much more than mere creations of beauty 
for the eyes of men, although even this were no 
mean mission. They are the dwelling-place of the 
Most High. 

Men may grow careless and forgetful, but the 
silent stone, the transfigured marble, the glowing 
canvas, the sculptured saint, the enduring mosaic, 
are a tribute from dead hands, and loving hearts 
that are stilled, to the Eternal, Living God. 

In the long nights, when the world is asleep, a 
thousand stately cathedrals whisper *^ Adoremus 
Te," to the Unseen Presence in the tabernacles — 
whisper a ceaseless prayer for the wants of the 
living, as they pleaded for men centuries dead, 
and as they will plead for the generations yet 
unborn. 

Another dear old lady said : '* I think that it is a 
parish disgrace that our priests must talk as much 
as they do to get the funds to keep up the church. 
Certainly it is not for themselves that they beg, and 
it seems to me that if we had the proper parish 
pride, to say nothing of proper Christian charity, 
we should not have to be nagged — I know of no 
better word — into doing our plain duty. When 
one compares the meagre salaries received by even 
the most learned of our clergy with the princely 



I 36 The People of Our Parish 

incomes of the rectors of rich Protestant congrega- 
tions, we ought to be ashamed of ourselves that the 
word *' money " must ever come to a pastor's hps. 
When we learn to look upon our contributions as 
a privilege, and not as a burden, we shall give with 
more spiritual profit to ourselves. I fancy our good 
angel forgets to place to our credit the contribu- 
tions we cannot evade." 

And, after all, our mites amount to but little for 
each individual during the year, — a small gift at 
Christmas to the clergy, an offering at Easter towards 
the education of young men for the priesthood, — 
and no one who appreciates the Holy Sacrifice, and 
the glorious mission of saving souls, could wish to 
be left out of this w^ork, — something for the orphans, 
and few cavil at this — for the little children appeal 
in their very helplessness to the strong. The basket 
set before us on Good Friday for the offerings 
towards the preservation of the holy places in Jeru- 
salem receives more dimes than dollars. Surely 
every Christian who venerates the spots hallowed 
by the footprints of the Saviour, is glad of the privi- 
lege of offering his mite. 

As for the pew rents and the special parish collec- 
tions, all who share in the benefit of a commodious, 
well-ventilated, well-heated edifice, with able and 
devout clergy to minister to their souls, attend their 
sick calls, be ready in the confessional, prompt on 
the altar, forceful in the pulpit, — surely the people 
ought to regard it as a matter of honor and Chris- 
tian duty to pay for the benefits they receive. 

A self-respecting man does not care to eat the 



Cheerful Givers 137 

bread or wear the clothes of charity; why, then, 
should he desire to be a mendicant in the Church? 

Charity is the last virtue the human heart relin- 
quishes, and when that goes then indeed is there 
little hope of ever w^akening the soul to life again. 
Yet, not long ago, a woman who goes to the sacra- 
ments regularly sent word to the Little Sisters of 
the Poor, on the rounds for their old people, that 
she was not at home. One would have thought 
that she would rather go hungry herself than refuse 
those dear saints. Down in the busy streets men 
who have lost every spark of religion take off their 
hats to them, and put their hands in their pocket- 
books without waiting to be asked. 

Father O'Neil declares that it is the poor of the 
parish who are the generous ones, and not the rich. 

The gift counts when you deny yourself some- 
thing in order to give. The girl who walks home 
from shop or office to save car fare, and drops her 
mite into the poor-box, has given generously; the 
rich matron, who writes her check for the hospital 
and thinks no more about it, has not given nearly 
so much. 

There are so many ways to give when one has 
the will. The records of noble lives whose memory 
is our heritage, reveal touching examples of gener- 
osity, — examples that poor worldlings admire but 
do not imitate. 

Even in the eras of shameful Hcense, when thrones 
totter, undermined by the corruption of those that 
should make their strength, there are always a few 
generous souls to save Gomorrah. 



I 38 The People of Our Parish 

Little children should learn the beauty of charity, 
but not the arrogance of philanthropy ; this spirit, 
in a typical Irish home, has been given to us by 
the Jesuit brother of the great English Chief Justice, 
Lord Russell of Killowen : — 

" The harsh word ^ beggar ' was under a ban 
In that quaint old house by the sea ; 
And Little Blue-Frock's announcement ran : 
'T is a poor little girl, a poor bhnd man, 
Poor woman with children three.'' 

Only the angels know the good that each day 
brings forth. 

Providence intends that mutual helpfulness should 
be the law of the world. Society in its highest 
resolution is organized socialism, — not the social- 
ism which can ever grow into anarchy, the socialism 
which would overturn law and order, and give some- 
thing for nothing; rather, it is the action and re- 
action in society of supply and demand, where the 
perfection of the whole depends upon the capability 
of the component units. The millionaire does not 
escape this law, any more than does the laborer; 
he must depend on the farmer for bread, his cook 
for a dinner, on the doctor for health, the lawyer 
for wise counsel ; in his pleasures he is dependent 
upon the army of workers who supply them, — the 
captain of the vessel that takes him across the 
ocean, the engineer who stands at the tireless 
throttle, the coachman who drives his horses, the 
printer who makes possible the morning paper, 
the actors, the artists, the sculptors, the musicians 



Cheerful Givers 139 

who give charm to leisure, the teachers who have 
developed his mind and soul. Not a bit of coal 
nor a grain of wheat, not a need nor a pleasure 
could be supplied without the co-operation of the 
world's workers. 

And if the workers are a necessity to the rich 
man, so equally is he indispensable to them ; his 
money pays their wage, and is put in circulation by 
them in the procuring of the comforts or the little 
luxuries of life. The Church, the school, the State, 
the arts, science, and literature owe their temporal 
prosperity to the rich. 

The poverty, almost the suffering, the monstrous 
wrong in the world, can be traced ultimately to the 
failure of some one to do his duty. Just as a loose 
screw may disarrange a whole system of machinery, 
so one failure in the line of duty may work measure- 
less ill. And when the failures are repeated and 
multiplied by the million day after day, is it strange 
that the world itself seems but a gigantic honey- 
comb of evil, oppression, degradation? 

To every one a different part is assigned. The 
world asks only that each do his best in the allotted 
sphere; it asks steady work from the mechanic, 
loyal service from the statesman, unquestioning 
valor from the soldier, a right use of money from 
the capitalist. Honest work for honest pay in re- 
turn should be the foundation and the simplification 
of the Labor Question. If each gave his best, 
whether of skill or intellect, keeping a clean con- 
science before God and the world, the Millennium 
would not be far away. 



XIII 

A NATIONAL TRUTH SOCIETY 

DR. MORDANT had just finished reading 
aloud, to the small company assembled 
around his own hearthstone, one of those contempt- 
ible little paragraphs, half truth and all lie, that 
make an intelligent Catholic red-hot. 

** I don't know why we stand this sort of thing," 
began the Doctor. 

** Because we can't help ourselves," answered 
Mrs. Driscoll. 

'* A body of twelve millions more or less sensible 
beings, with a hierarchy, clergy, schools, charitable 
institutions, thoroughly organized, and adequately 
equipped, and we can't help a bigoted, shyster editor 
of a third-rate journal vomiting forth his venomous 
calumnies ! Well, I think we can ! " and the old 
gentleman glowered at us as if we, in our ignorant 
helplessness, were shyster editors ourselves. 

** Forbearance under calumny is not virtue, but 
cowardly weakness. We Catholics do our duty as 
citizens and as individuals : we fight the battles of 
our country, pay taxes, obey the laws, do good in 
our several ways to our neighbor, educate our chil- 
dren, and attend to our own particular business; 
and all we ask in return is to be left in peace, and 



A National Truth Society 141 

protected in our just rights. We get tired of being 
lied about, — nothing but Hes, Hes, lies, from the 
time a man is born until he goes to his grave." 

*' My dear, if we went around fighting people who 
lie about us, we should spend our lives between 
fighting and nursing our bruises, either of the body 
or of the spirit," said Mrs. Mordant, softly. 

*' Not if we fought in a proper way, — guerilla 
warfare counts for little, but organized armies are 
very much to the front. 

*' The Reverend Zion Blunderbuss who edits the 
'Sabbath Star,' fills his columns with atrocious libels 
on Catholics as a body, and no one takes the 
trouble to refute him, because no one considers it 
within his province. 

'^ But suppose there were an incorporated Catholic 
Truth Society, with six milHons of members, and 
with a branch in every city, town, and village in the 
country, on the watch for the Reverend Zion, and 
ready and able to hunt him down, and force a re- 
traction of his lies ! How long do you think it 
would be before the tone of the press would be 
pitched in a very different key? 

** As it is, here and there a Catholic resents a cal- 
umny, — sometimes a man with more zeal than dis- 
cretion rushes into the fray, and has to crawl out of 
it, and the jeering victor has an open field for the 
rest of his days. Now and then a Catholic priest 
writes to the editor of a big magazine, ordering his 
subscription discontinued, because of the unfair and 
anti-Catholic spirit manifested in its pages ; but what 
counts one more or less? As units we have no 



142 The People of Our Parish 

strength, but as an organized body we might move 
the mountains of lies, libel, and calumny." 

" What about the Truth Society that we have 
already?" asked Horace Norrison. 

*' It never was much more than local, — at least 
its influence has counted for very little in the 
aggregate. 

*' I am an old man, but I hope to see a national 
organization before I die — one that will be a power 
wherever the English tongue is spoken — or, what 
is more to the point, written and printed. 

'^ Fancy Editor Zion's receiving a letter indited 
on the official paper of my ideal society : * National 
Catholic Truth Society, The Most Reverend Arch- 
bishop Erin, President; ' then a lot of distinguished 
names, as directors, and in one corner, * Membership, 
six million,' and in the other corner, ' General Office, 
Trinity Building, Washington,' and tucked modestly 
to one side, ^ Legal adviser, Ex-President George 
Washington Blank,' — why, the letter-head alone of 
the society would make the creature weak at the 
knees. And the brief and pointed lines that would 
follow, calling his attention to the error of his ways, 
and signed by the secretary of the local branch, 
would bring out an ample apology in the next issue 
of the ' Star/ 

*' And imagine this process repeated and multi- 
plied throughout the country, — a calumny exposed 
almost before the printer's ink is dry; it would not 
take long to place ourselves in a very different atti- 
tude from our present submissive meekness. 

** And if we had a million or even a half-million 



A National Truth Society 143 

dollars as annual revenue, we might send out enough 
free literature, in the way of cheap books and pam- 
phlets, to instruct even the ignorance of the Reverend 
Zions. Human endeavor could aspire no further. 

*'The average Protestant, when not blinded by 
bigotry and prejudice, loves truth and fair play, and 
would be the first to protest against the systematic 
vilification of Catholics and the Catholic Church, if 
the statements were once recognized as a vilification. 

*' The average Catholic gets the credit for being 
far more solicitous about the spiritual condition of 
his separated brethren than he really is ; if he were 
half as intent on proselytism — on being ^a secret 
agent of the Jesuits ' — as he is supposed to be, the 
converts would be in far greater numbers than they 
are. 

'^ Too often he is derelict. Not that I advocate 
going about with a catechism, or explaining Indul- 
gences to the pretty Protestant you take in to din- 
ner, but I do like to see an intelligent Catholic 
absolutely fearless in presenting Catholic truth when 
asked, and morally courageous in openly professing 
every jot and tittle, when the occasion arises for so 
doing. 

** The Catholic who goes to non-Catholic churches, 
attends little dances in Lent, joins an avowedly 
Protestant charity organization, never speaks of 
Catholic concerns, no matter how much the Protes- 
tant friend prates of his — all in the name of 
' liberality ' and ' broad-mindedness ' — is my pet 
abomination." 

** Dr. Mordant, you must, at some period of your 



144 The People of Our Parish 

life, have lived in Ovington ; you describe the 
Ovington type of pinchbeck Catholic so accu- 
rately," laughed Margaret Oglesby, a delightful 
girl on a visit to Mrs. DriscolL *' If you were in 
the pulpit in our church I should expect to see 
heads bobbing all through the congregation, to 
escape the psychic stone you were going to 
throw. 

*'If we had that minority of one in seven that Mrs. 
Driscoll speaks of, we should consider ourselves rich 
beyond the dreams of avarice. We are little more 
than one in twenty, and the one is so often not 
equal to the part of a ragged little fraction ! At 
least one of the Scriptural marks of Christianity is 
ours beyond all dispute — the poor we have with 
us, in the greatest abundance and most interesting 
variety ; and they have the gospel preached to them, 
sometimes in English spiced with Teuton accents, 
and sometimes in the richest brogue. We have 
two saloon keepers and their families among us, 
and I have been told by some member or other of 
nearly every denomination in the city that they 
(the pronoun is not strictly grammatical, I know) 
do not admit saloon keepers to membership. And 
nearly all the cooks in the West End belong to us, 
too, and I am constantly hearing of some Bridget 
or Delia who is such a faithful soul in the house- 
holds of my friends, told as if the news would be 
personally gratifying. 

'* Then we have half a dozen families who are of 
the local Four Hundred — Dr. Mordant's old friends, 
or their telepathic relatives. One lady, in particu- 



A National Truth Society 145 

lar, — she is a friend of mine, too, and we have the 
most beautiful fights on rehgion, — makes a pose 
of ' Hberality.' She is always to the fore in society 
functions, Protestant charities, and the Chautauqua 
circle, with their horrid little shallow, bigoted text- 
books, but she never condescends to any of the 
affairs of her own church. She pretends to be 
something of an invalid, — just enough to be excused 
from the Lenten fast, or going to High Mass, or to 
Vespers, or any of the evening services; but not 
enough to shut out receptions galore, evening par- 
ties, and all sorts of committee meetings. We 
can have the most eloquent preacher in the State, 
but Mrs. Desmond is not attracted — The name 
slipped out, — I hope I am not sinning very terribly 
against charity, since none of you know her. 

** She thinks mamma is a relic of the dark ages — 
so she called her — because she wouldn't let us 
join the * King's Daughters,' — a body of charming 
young girls and our intimate friends, who do a 
great deal of good, and are nobly consistent in 
saying their prayers and singing hymns according 
to the Protestant ritual, for they are an avowedly 
Protestant association. 

*' I admire them immensely, but I should scorn a 
Catholic who sacrificed her principles and joined 
them. 

'* Mrs. Desmond's daughter is a member, but she 

is not a member of the parish sodality because the 

girls composing it are so common ! First and last 

there are a good many things that Catholics of our 

city have to stand — not big ones, but just hateful 

10 



146 The People of Our Parish 

little nettles that sting before you quite realize their 
presence. All the best plays come in Lent, and 
there has never been an opera there at any other 
season. Now I do go to the opera and to a tragedy 
presented by a great actor, because I look upon 
them as elevating and uplifting ; and we must see 
them in Lent or not see them at all. For instance, 
mamma took us to see ' Hamlet,' but when Mansfield 
came with 'The Parisian Romance,' we had to refuse 
two invitations to box parties, because by no stretch 
of conscience could * The Romance,' be considered 
elevating; yet I simply dote on Mansfield as an 
actor. 

'*The Daughters of the Revolution, our very swell- 
est organization, always give a reception and ball 
on Washington's birthday, and it generally falls in 
Lent — sometimes on Ash Wednesday. And Fri- 
day is a favorite day for fashionable luncheons and 
dinner parties ; and if you go you satisfy your hunger 
with bread and potatoes, whilst your partner eats 
chicken salad and duck and turkey and sweetbreads. 

" Then the Monday papers devote a page to ' news 
of the churches,' with transcripts of Methodist and 
Baptist and Presbyterian sermons, and mention of 
the choir — that Miss Dresden sang the 'Sanctus' 
from Gounod's Solennelle at the First Methodist 
Church, and Mr. Munich rendered with great feel- 
ing ' The Agnus Dei from Mozart's Twelfth Mass at 
the Unitarian Tabernacle. But never a word about 
the Catholic service. 

*' And the children of the public schools are 
marched in procession to hear a baccalaureate ser- 



A National Truth Society 147 

mon, preached by invitation, in one of the Protestant 
churches ; and a local holiday is declared when the 
Masons in gorgeous paraphernalia lay the corner- 
stone of the new city building; and a committee of 
Protestant clergy select new books for the public 
library, and put in * Gems from Beecher,' and 'Ten 
Years as a Methodist Missionary in Mexico ; ' and 
you are expected to pay your taxes that help to 
support all these institutions,' and look pleasant the 
while. 

**The Protestants are in the ascendency and they 
simply make use of their privileges. 

'' It is only an esoteric sort of consolation to hug 
to your soul the thought of all the great and repre- 
sentative Catholics in New York and Washington, 
or Paris and Vienna. 

*' Of course, if Catholics believed what many good 
Protestants think that we believe, we should be fit 
for hanging, but not for anything else, unless it be 
solitary confinement on Devil's Island. 

** Our dentist is an ardent Baptist, and whilst I am 
waiting in his reception-room, to be stretched on 
the red plush rack, I amuse myself with the file of 
the Baptist weekly kept on the centre table. 

** I learned from its columns that the Jesuits are 
given to bacchanalian orgies, and that the Indians 
are taught in the confessional to lie and steal. I 
read of the horrors of the Inquisition (still harping 
on my daughter, you know), and of Popish plots, 
and the raffle of souls, and the current prices for 
sins, and the corrupting tendencies of Romanism, 
and the like delectable rot ! " 



148 The People of Our Parish 

" Go home instantly, and start a branch of my 
truth society," interrupted Dr. Mordant. 

^' I am afraid my friends would politely decline 
the pamphlets," retorted the visitor. 

'^ Personally I am sure they would n't lie and 
bear false witness against their neighbor — even a 
* Romanist,' but as . subscribers to their church 
papers they are forced to become the dissemina- 
tors of the lies of others. And the editors them- 
selves may not know any better, — but if they do 
not know, they are out of place in the editorial 
chair or the pulpit, and would better suit the street- 
cleaning department of a big city. 

'* I fear that we do not quite realize our responsi- 
bilities towards our Protestant friends," began Mrs. 
Driscoll. '' We love them and admire them for 
their virtues and charms of mind and heart, we see 
them doing good in their way, devoted to their form 
of religion, and we console ourselves with thinking 
that they belong to the soul of the Church, if not 
to its visible body. We forget that we have a 
sacred duty to show them the truth if we can. 
Life is not so easy that any one can afford to dis- 
pense with the means of grace which would help over 
the pitfalls. Mother Church offers to her children 
the priceless daily sacrifice of Mass, the grace of the 
Sacraments, holds aloft the flaming light of truth, 
marks unerringly the path through the wilderness, 
and sets unchangeable guide-posts at the cross- 
roads of right and wrong. We start out as travel- 
lers through a dark and unknown countr)^, but with 
a sure leader to show^ the path, with spiritual Bread 



A National Truth Society 149 

to give strength and sustenance, and with a bea- 
con that is never extinguished to Hght the way. 
We have all that, we know that we have it, and yet 
we see our friends, deprived of it through no fault 
of their own, struggling forward in the mist, stumb- 
ling over boulders or pitching into ravines ; we see 
them thirsty, and drinking the water from poisoned 
wells; and yet, because they have rejected our 
counsel in the beginning, we say never a word that 
might make them pause. We are in possession of 
a priceless treasure that belongs to others as much 
as it does to us, since Christ died for all." 

*' Theoretically I agree with you," said Adele, '' but 
in practice there are many obstacles. One would be 
voted a bore if one brought up religion, — it is one 
of the subjects to be tabooed in a mixed assemblage ; 
besides, the mere telling counts for very little. 

*' Faith is a gift of God, the catechism tells us, and 
no amount of talking is going to bring it. In a 
bigoted community a convert has to suffer so much 
petty persecution that that knowledge alone often 
closes the mind to any consideration of Catholic 
claims." 

*' I fancy that the Missionary Union, recently 
established at the Paulist headquarters in New York, 
will do much in the way of making Catholic truth 
known to those outside the fold," said Mr. Travis. 

" Yes," answered the Doctor, '* if it is properly 
supported, and if its sphere is sufficiently extended, 
and if the Catholic people generally become in- 
terested in the work." 

** It is unfortunate that nearly all admirable things 



150 The People of Our Parish 

in this world depend on so many if's^' said Horace, 
in an aside to the visitor. 

** We CathoHcs here in the United States are in 
the condition of the young giant who has just grown 
up, and has not yet learned the extent of his power," 
went on the Doctor. '' It is a singular example of 
the perversity of wilful blindness, that, whilst we are 
accused by our separated brethren of being the 
political tools of ecclesiastical power, we are the 
most thoroughly disunited body, in everything ex- 
cept our faith, in the world. In a recent presiden- 
tial campaign, a Catholic was on the Republican 
committee, and another Catholic was on the Demo- 
cratic ; in the ranks of both parties Catholics are 
found fighting each other stubbornly at the polls. 
The Germans have their own organizations, and the 
Irish have theirs; there is no social unity, and no 
political unity. Yet we are accused — but why talk 
of accusations? 

" The wise might learn a lesson from the condi- 
tions as they now exist, and not force us by persecu- 
tion to become a political unit. We might wield a 
power little dreamed of in their reckonings. 

''The German Catholics taught Bismarck a lesson, 
and if necessary the American Catholics can repeat 
the lesson for corrupt poHticians." 

'' So long as our Constitution is preserved in its 
integrity, there will be no need for the lesson," 
answered Horace, who is ardently patriotic. 

*' We have had a good deal to suffer in the past," 
answered the Doctor. '' I pass over the double tax 
for schools, the withdrawal of appropriations from 



A National Truth Society 151 

our charitable institutions, where we take care of the 
sick, the helpless, or the bad, regardless of creed ; 
and I still have a big score of wrongs : an army in 
which nearly one third of the soldiers are Catholics 
with four CathoHc chaplains ; the navy largely 
manned by Catholic seamen, and nearly all the 
chaplains Protestant; the atrocious injustice of the 
Indian bureau in breaking its contract with the Sis- 
ters, after letting them erect and equip suitable 
buildings, and leave their work in other places to 
devote themselves to the Indian, — and without the 
shadow of a complaint; and this too, when one 
fourth of the Indians in the country are Catholic, 
and desirous of Catholic schools for their children ; 
when the highest Protestant testimony — senators, 
judges, commissioners — have declared the worth of 
the Catholic schools ; when not a breath of scandal 
has ever tarnished the fame of one of them, and 
shameful excesses have been proven over and over 
again in the Government schools. Our enemies 
would prefer to have the Indians pagan rather than 
to have them Catholic. 

''And yet we have nothing to complain of! 

''At West Point the Episcopahans, one of the 
smallest of the leading denominations in the country, 
have had a chapel on the Government reservation 
for years, and with an Episcopal clergyman, paid by 
the Government, in charge ; and yet Catholics had a 
long and bitter fight to obtain permission to build 
at their own expense a Catholic chapel on the 
grounds, for the benefit of the Catholic cadets, 
largely outnumbering the Episcopahans. 



152 The People of Our Parish 

^* The infamous A.P.A. have made religion a po- 
litical issue in spite of the Constitution, and appHed 
the religious test in elections. No Catholic has 
ever been President, and no Catholic could be, at 
the present state of prejudice, be his gifts those of 
an archangel. 

'' If Sheridan had been a Methodist like Grant, or 
if Sherman had not had a Catholic wife, we might 
have seen one or both of these distinguished Union 
generals in the White House. 

'' In many communities a Catholic could not be 
elected to any office, however petty. 

'' All these things will, in the providence of God, 
be remedied in time. 

'' What I would wish the National Truth Society to 
secure — and unless it is national in reality as well 
as in name, found in every town throughout the 
land, it could do very little — would be, primarily, 
Justice for Catholics, and the Truth about them; 
to enable Catholics to say effectively to our non- 
Catholic fellows : You shall not lie about us, and 
you shall not deprive us of our rights. If you were 
honest in your professions you would not wish to 
do either, and if you are not honest, you should be 
forced to be just. For the rest, you are at liberty 
to dislike us as much as you please. Our clergy, 
successors of the Apostles, are divinely commis- 
sioned to teach the truth to every creature ; we offer 
the means to enlighten your ignorance, — ignorance 
for which you are probably not to blame ; we 
invite you to our churches to hear the truth ex- 
plained ; we will give you, free of charge, books ex- 



A National Truth Society 153 

plaining Catholic truth. We do this out of Christian 
charity for our brethren; personally your conver- 
sion is not of the slightest moment to us ; it is for 
your own sakes we teach you, not for any benefit 
you can confer upon us. 

^^ The average middle-class non-Catholic acts as 
if he imagined that the Pope secretly rewards his 
agents who bring converts into the Church." 

*' As a general thing we do not manifest a suffi- 
cient concern for the souls of our brethren," said 
Travis. 

^^ We do not begin to support our foreign mis- 
sions, in proportion to their number and extent, 
as Protestants support theirs. When I read their 
reports I am filled with admiration for their zeal, 
and with pity for their almost wasted efforts. 

^' The Catholic Church has more extensive mis- 
sions and more converts among the heathen than all 
the sects put together. 

**The Protestant missionary goes to China or Japan, 
or wherever his particular sect sends him ; he takes 
his wife and children with him, and is provided with 
a house in some city, — he is seldom found in the 
country places, — with a servant or servants ; and a 
salary, sufficient to support himself and family, is 
cheerfully paid. 

'' The CathoHc missionary, usually a member of 
some religious order, asks only a coarse cloth habit 
and simple food, a hard bed or a pallet of straw ; 
he goes everywhere, into jungles and deserts, to the 
bedside of the plague-stricken sinner, into the 
hovels of the poor, to the mansions of the rich and 



1 54 The People of Our Parish 

powerful. Sisters, vowed to poverty, chastity, and 
obedience, are there with their schools and hospi- 
tals and orphanages. The Catholic missionary, 
whether he wears the black robe of the Jesuit, the 
brown of the Franciscan, or the white of the Domini- 
can, teaches one and the same doctrine, offers the 
same Sacraments. The heathen, who is not a fool, 
sees the sacrifices the Catholic priest and nun make 
for him, and he contrasts it with the comfort, and 
sometimes luxury, wijh which the Protestant mis- 
sionary surrounds himself, and the sacrifice appeals 
to that which is highest in his nature ; he sees the 
Catholic clergy teaching the same thing, so that 
whether his brethren have been baptized by a Jesuit 
or a Franciscan they go to the same church, and 
receive the same Sacraments, and are taught the 
same doctrine ; and he sees the Presbyterian mission 
house, and the Methodist, and the Baptist, and the 
Anglican, all independent, and all differing; and 
this fact strikes home to his logical faculty, with 
but one conclusion. 

'' Let us fight for our rights, but fight manfully, 
openly, honorably, with the weapons of truth, jus- 
tice, and personal integrity ; let us spare no means 
to instruct our separated brethren as to what the 
Catholic Church really is, and then let the result be 
with themselves." 

'' Oh, no," said Mrs. Driscoll, gently. '' Let the 
result be with God." 



XIV 

THE PRIEST OF THE FAMILY 

THREE lines in the evening *' Star '* an- 
nounced to the world that Jack Carroll had 
gone to the seminary to study for the priesthood. 
Everybody in the parish knows and likes Jack, and 
his pious decision is regarded as a fitting climax to 
his years of service in the sanctuary and the choir. 
It seems but yesterday, although really quite ten 
years ago, since Jack, with his beautiful baby face, 
chubby cheeks shaded by long black lashes, big 
gray eyes and golden curls, a countenance domi- 
nated by dimples and smiles at his young impor- 
tance, — in the glory of purple cassock and snowy 
surplice, — appeared in the train of a bishop, and 
sat as still, or bowed as gracefully, during the long 
service of a pontifical Mass, as any critically fond 
mother could expect of a boy only seven and a 
half years old. 

*' I knew about his going, yesterday," vouchsafed 
Adele Norrison. '' He and Carl have been class- 
mates and chums at St. Xavier's, and Carl imparted 
the momentous secret to me, in strictest confidence, 
of course, when he was getting ready to go to the 
train to see the last of his Damon. Mamma was 
afraid Carl might take a notion to go to the semi- 
nary, too.'* 



156 The People of Our Parish 

** Afraid, Adele? That seems rather a strange 
word/' answered Mrs. DriscoU. ^' Hoped would 
sound better." 

** That depends on the point of view, I suppose. 
At any rate, it was fear and not hope in this in- 
stance, and with precious Httle room for either. 
Carl is a good boy, but nature never intended him 
for a cassock.'' 

** I wonder why it is," put in Dr. Mordant, ** that 
so few of our old American families have given a 
son to the priesthood ! We seem to leave this 
highest of all vocations to the children of obscurity, 
or to foreigners. Whether this indicates a deca- 
dence of piety among our people, or carelessness on 
the part of pastors who might be supposed to be 
on the lookout for clerical raw material, so to speak, 
the effect is apparent. In Europe a priest in the 
family is counted a holy honor, and in an earlier 
day a son was set apart for the altar, almost as a 
matter of course." 

''And a pretty mess this ' matter-of-course' made 
of his vocation — save the mark ! in too many cases 
on historic record. I am glad that the day of the 
family-convenience priest is of the past. May it 
never return ! " 

Travis spoke with some heat, for nothing gives him 
more delight than the opposite side of an argument. 

*' I was not thinking of him in the light of a family 
convenience. In fact, in America, where a lad grows 
up with the expectation of making his own living, 
of working for his cakes and ale and all that they 
represent, irrespective of his father's possessions, 



The Priest of the Family 157 

there could n't be any family convenience. A boy 
becomes a priest, and lives on his salary; his brother 
is a lawyer, and lives by his wits. Of course, where 
it is a question of an only son one can understand 
a father's natural desire to see him marry and per- 
petuate the family name, and whatever honor at- 
taches to it; but Catholic families, as a rule, are 
not afflicted with only sons ; that is a malady in- 
digenous to New England — and ' the new mother.'" 

** We live in such a din of materialism that the 
whisperings of a vocation are unheard," said Mrs. 
Driscoll. ^* Or perhaps parents expect an angel 
to warn them in a vision of the priestly halo on 
the brow of their son. They forget that* one can 
reach the supernatural through natural means. 
A boy with good dispositions, fair talents for 
study, and a sound physical body, might be 
directed in this chosen path, and with proper safe- 
guards and training reach the goal of holy or- 
ders. Father Morris told me that his mother first 
put the thought of being a priest into his head, and 
the idea had come to her from seeing him play at 
being one; he was given to singing High Mass, 
vested in a sheet and a red plush table-cover, with 
his small brother as a serving-boy. 

** In fact, more vocations have been fostered by a 
pious mother's counsels and prayers than through 
all other means combined. The * devout female sex,' 
when it happens to mean anything at all, means a 
great deal. The modern American woman does not 
seem to appreciate the honor that might be hers, 
— the honor of being a good priest's mother." 



158 The People of Our Parish 

*^ Perhaps the mothers fear the terrible responsi- 
biHty attached to the priestly office," said Travis ; 
*^ and a bad priest is something so awful that one 
might well pause to think of this possibiHty." 

'* The bad priest in America practically does not 
exist. Once in a while one sees a child with six 
fingers, and once in a while a priest forgets his 
sacred character." 

'^ I fancy the difficulty is of a very different 
nature," said Dr. Mordant. '' Lack of money is 
the great stone in most careers, and the ministry 
is no exception. A father with a large family 
and a small salary might hesitate on the score of 
expense." 

*' I thought the diocese paid for the education of 
its priests," put in Adele. '' I 'm sure we are al- 
ways having collections for the seminary." 

*' Not always, my dear. Only once a year," 
answered Mrs. Driscoll. 

" The diocese pays after the candidate reaches 
theology, — the last three years of his course ; but 
there must have been many years of study before 
this time, and whilst he is studying the classics, the 
sciences of an ordinary education, and the multiple 
branches of philosophy, — and in this age of critical 
culture he must go from cosmology to paleontology, 
— his father must pay.'' 

** How does it happen, then, that so many boys 
of the poor, or the merely well-to-do, become 
priests? " 

** Either because their families are willing to 
make heroic sacrifices for them, or they are edu- 



The Priest of the Family 159 

cated at the expense of the pious rich. Some 
families find this vicarious way of having a priest 
to their credit more to their Hking than to devote 
one of their own sons to the altar. 

" Sometimes the pastor takes an interest in the 
young acolyte, and discovers a generous patron 
willing to pay his expenses during the preparatory 
years. 

*' In some parishes the sanctuary is a sort of train- 
ing-school for candidates, and the boys who show 
the most aptitude and piety when serving at the 
altar are singled out by the pastor, and encouraged 
to hope for the privilege of one day being priests 
themselves/* 

*' Certainly this is not the case with us,*' answered 
Adele. " Jack Carroll is the first altar boy in my 
recollection who has gone to the seminary.** 

" I am very sure that none of the clergy ever 
spoke to the boys about being priests, during my 
time of service,** put in Horace Norrison. 

^* Sometimes the Sisters at the school would ask 
one of the Httle chaps if he would n*t like to be a 
priest, but none of the Fathers ever suggested the 
idea.** 

** We might take a lesson in fostering vocations 
from our German neighbors,** added Travis. '* The 
Bishop ordained eight young men last week, and 
of the eight six were Germans, one a Bohemian, 
and only one an American — and he was Irish.** 

*' There is n*t any nonsense about a German, and 
when he wants things to happen he makes them 
happen. A pastor sees German congregations who 



i6o The People of Our Parish 

want a German clergy, and he takes little German 
boys and develops them into German priests. Now 
and again it happens that there are not enough Ger- 
man congregations to go round, so the priests are 
lent to English parishes, and the parishioners, when 
the language of Shakespeare is served to them in 
the accents of Schiller, grumble in Bostonese 
American." 

^* Are the Germans really more pious than other 
people, that they give their sons so willingly to the 
Church?" 

** They are more practical, — they understand 
better the relation between cause and effect; the 
cause is generally money. An American sits still, 
waiting for some one else's money to bring about 
certain desirable effects, and the German gives his 
own ; not a great deal, because he is thrifty, but 
everybody's little makes the requisite much. 

*' Look at all the big, beautiful churches the 
Germans have built in this city, — and in other cities 
you see the same, — and the schools and the hospi- 
tals ; and they are usually paid for by the time the 
last paint is dry on the walls. Perhaps if Father 
Ryan did n't have the parish debt he might find 
time to teach good little boys Latin. 

'* Father Winkelkamp, over at St. Mary's, picks 
out the clever boys in his school, informs their 
proud fathers that he has discovered signs of a 
vocation, and starts them at * mensa^ mensce' If 
they are poor boys he takes up a collection, on his 
own responsibility, to defray the expenses of 
their education. As a result, the * Catholic Planet ' 



The Priest of the Family 1 6 1 

is always announcing that Mr. Anthony This, or 
Mr. Jacob That, of St. Mary's parish, has been 
ordained priest. 

" A very potent cause in making our boys them- 
selves hesitate, is the undeserved stigma attached 
to the clerical student who finds he has no voca- 
tion and withdraws. * Pretre manque' the French 
say, but they do not make him feel as if he had 
done something terrible, where in reality he has 
acted with the highest honor. 

** Many an Irish mother would rather see her son 
dead than to see him return from the diocesan 
seminary. The disgrace would be when he was 
hypocrite enough to keep on, knowing that the 
priesthood was not his vocation." 

*^ Sometimes the priests have such dreadfully 
hard times, especially in the West, that their 
mothers seek to dissuade them, rather than to 
encourage the pious ambition." 

'^Yes, that is very true, although as a rule our 
priests have an easier life than they would have had 
as laymen. This is looking at the matter as a pro- 
fession, rather than as a vocation. Here is Father 
Ryan, to find an example at our door. His family 
are good, plain people ; his brother works early 
and late in a grocery store, and his sisters are 
married to hard-working, plain men. Yet where 
would you find a more charming man, one more 
polished, more highly educated, or more welcome 
in the best houses, than this same Father Ryan? 
Given his tastes, the tastes of a scholar and gentle- 
man, is he not a thousand times happier as he is 

II 



1 62 The People of Our Parish 

than he would be behind a grocery counter, dealing 
out salt mackerel? 

*' He has a comfortable home, a fine library, and a 
good horse; his cook knows how to get up a dinner, 
and when he asks a fellow-priest to dine with him 
there is no lack of silverware and china for the 
table. His friends are among a class of people he 
could never have known in the sphere in which 
he was born, and his responsibilities are not to be 
compared with the daily burden of providing for 
the wants of a family on an entirely inadequate 
income. 

" The rich man*s son sacrifices a great deal in 
becoming a priest, but the poor man's son is rather 
the gainer. This is taking a very material view, 
and a view that no good priest ever considers. He 
is trained to be ready to make any sacrifice, even of 
life itself, for the salvation of souls. And in the 
ministry, as in other callings, a man's own gifts 
determine his position. The zealous priest, who is 
a scholar and an orator and a man of affairs, will 
be at the head of a large parish, where the equally 
good priest, whose talents are ordinary, w^ill be left 
in a poor country mission. The priest, like the 
soldier, goes where he is sent, without question." 

" I wish that more boys of nice families would 
become priests," said Adele. '* All the priests I 
know are holy men, but some of them lack the 
refinements of a gentleman. I took a Protestant 
friend to hear Father Marsden preach, and in the 
pulpit he is magnificent ; but she met him at a 
concert afterwards, and his manners were simply 



The Priest of the Family 163 

uncouth ! He wore his hat in the house, and had 
dirty finger-nails, and the influence of the sermon 
was instantly lost." 

"You must have her meet Father Ryan," retorted 
Mrs. Driscoll. 

**I do hope Jack Carroll will persevere. He will 
make a charming clergyman. He has the manners 
of a French marquis, and he sings so beautifully it 
would be a real treat to hear him sing the Pater 
Noster. Poor little Father Higgins has no more 
music in his voice than a parrot, and he will sing 
through his nose. He got catarrh when he was on 
a mission in the country, where he had to go on a 
handcar to attend sick calls. But one is apt to 
forget the handcar and the sick calls, when he gets 
off the key at adveniat regnuniy and does not get on 
again until debita no sir a T 

** There seems to be a general demand among the 
bishops for a more thorough training in the semi- 
naries," said Travis ; ** and this is a move in the 
right direction. If the arts of oratory and the 
learning of a scholar will widen the influence of a 
priest, then the arts and the learning should be re- 
quired of the candidates for orders; in pioneer 
days, when the harvest was ripe and the reapers 
were few, the students had to be hurried through 
the course of studies, and ordained for the mis- 
sions ; nor could a bishop, with people falling away 
from their faith, because there was no one to ad- 
minister the sacraments, or teach the children, be 
over particular as to the talents of his candidates ; 
piety and zeal were seized upon with avidity, and 



1 64 The People of Our Parish 

oratory and nice manners were not required. Now 
the conditions are different, at least in the older 
States, and the candidates are numerous enough to 
admit of a careful choice. In the West one may 
still occasionally find the curious accent, and the 
mourning finger-nails, in the pulpit, but the progress 
of piety and polish is making surely, if slowly, for 
better things/' 



XV 

CATHOLIC LITERATURE 

OUR little assembly of intimates had again 
gathered at Dr. Mordant's. 

The Doctor is fond of asking his friends to come 
and take what he calls '* pot-luck '' with him, although 
there are usually five courses, and cut flowers, and 
dress-coats, features which did not belong to *^ pot- 
luck " twenty-five years ago. 

Mrs. Mordant led the way to the library, because 
the gentlemen wanted to smoke, and the rest of us 
wanted to listen to their elevating conversation. 

Horace Norrison, who is not afflicted with mod- 
esty, says that it is elevating. 

There had been no preconceived plan to talk of 
literature, but it so chanced that the latest cata- 
logues from two publishers, were lying on the 
library table, and they turned our thoughts into 
the channel which, in that house, is very wide. For 
the Doctor is a great reader. 

** It is marvellous, the amount of deep learning, 
original research, and literary excellence represented 
by these two catalogues," began Travis, his nervous 
white fingers resting on the little books. 

** There are volumes here that contain the gar- 
nered treasures of long, busy lives given up to one 



1 66 The People of Our Parish 

branch of learning; works in every department 
of human thought — science, theology, philosophy, 
philology, social economics, as well as literature 
pure and simple. The books contained in these 
lists would make a fairly creditable library for a 
town or college. University professors, gray-haired 
ecclesiastics, statesmen, lawyers, noblemen, are here 
represented, by the essence, so to speak, of their 
life-work, the distillations of years of study and 
varied activities. 

** Here are works, written not six months ago, in 
idiomatic, clear-cut Latin, supposed to be a dead 
language, but very much alive among Catholics; 
works in German, in French, in Italian, models of 
style, too, some of them. And yet there is the cry, 
* Catholics do not buy their own books ! "* 

'^ Those ponderous tomes are for the clergy, and 
the other professors, rather than for ordinary mor- 
tals like ourselves," answered Mrs. Hartley. **The 
average woman is too busy to bother over biology, 
or the Arians in the fourth century. I read a 
lot of Catholic books when I was at school, — 
and wretched twaddle they were, too, — because I 
couldn't lay my hands on anything else," concluded 
the little lady, with disarming candor. 

*^We received histories of the Church and * Treas- 
uries of Truth ' for premiums, gaudily bound, poorly 
printed, and as lifeless in style, and quite as absurd, 
as a wooden soldier who presents arms when prop- 
erly wound. 

** In Lent, for our sins, we had the lifeless lives of 
the Saints read to us in the refectory. 



Catholic Literature 167 

"Now I am not so hardened as not to care for the 
Saints, — some of them I love dearly ; and it has 
been my good fortune to read at least two saintly 
biographies that are as fascinating as a good novel. 
I don*t see why some of you end-of-the-century 
writers, with common-sense and a style, do not turn 
your attention to this rich field." The closing re- 
mark was directed to Marian Vere, a clever young 
woman who has published several books, and from 
whom her friends expect brilliant things. 

** We use our sense — I suppose I may say * we' 
since you said *you' — in the fields that promise the 
greatest returns,'' said Marian, spiritedly. 

** The reading public does not discriminate be- 
tween good work and bad. As apt as not the 
books of the sort that you call * twaddle,' and I call 
* junk,' have a greater sale than books of really high 
merit. The Catholic mother with a conscience buys 
Catholic juveniles, but it does not occur to her to 
add the Catholic novel to her library." 

** It is generally so stupid," interrupted Adele. 

" There, that proves just what I was saying. 
Many of them are stupid stuff, but if you would use 
your taste and judgment you would find not a few 
of genuine worth. The number is surprising when 
you consider that the Catholic novelist seldom gets 
either money or glory, but is supposed to work 
from some sublimely altruistic motive. Of course 
a few make some money, but the majority get 
nothing. 

" The successful Catholic book is not in the line 
of fiction. 



1 68 The People of Our Parish 

'^ This is accounted for in part by the fact that our 
best Catholic writers belong to the realm of general 
literature, without any restricting prefix. 

'' Crawford, and Johnson, and Repplier, and La- 
throp, are names of Catholics, but not of Catholic 
writers. You see what I mean? 

'*As soon as a Catholic makes a reputation as a 
writer he passes to the secular publishers and the 
big magazines, and our literature knows him no 
more. 

*' The few capable ones who would remain in the 
ranks are either crowded out, or kept down by the 
army of mediocrities who throng to the front, and 
are willing, not to say anxious, to write volumes of 
trash, and to supply the magazines with insufferable 
commonplace, merely for the sake of seeing their 
names on title-pages.'* 

*'I think our magazines are surprisingly good, 
considering the disadvantages under which they 
labor," said the Doctor, briskly. '' Now here is the 
Blank Monthly — I think it compares very favorably 
with the secular magazines." 

" All except the fiction, but deliver me from that," 
said Mrs. Hartley. '' I agree with Marian that the 
best known Catholic writers are not found in our 
magazines, or so seldom that they hardly leaven the 
array of commonplace served up to us month after 
month." 

** It would be a great gain," conceded the Doctor, 
*^ if our editors could see their way to securing more 
first-class talent than they do, but until they receive 
a more generous support it is hardly possible." 



Catholic Literature 169 

** Some of our Catholic periodicals are caught in 
a sort of vicious circle/' said Travis; ** they are not 
supported because they are so dull, and they are so 
dull because they are not supported. I know of 
more than one Catholic institution where the three 
or four of the big secular magazines are taken, and 
not a single Catholic monthly, and only one Cath- 
olic paper." 

*' One has to pay for what is worth having, and 
the Catholic editor is no exception," said Marian. 
**The average editor has not learned this truth, and 
probably will not, so long as he can get tons of 
junk — some of it is very good junk, with bits of 
gold showing here and there — for what he chooses 
to pay. 

** Now I received for my first article in the Blank 
Magazine, — if you will pardon the intrusion of the 
personal pronoun, — when I was absolutely unknown, 
a larger check than I received for my last one ; and 
the first check was sent on acceptance of the manu- 
script, and the last one not until the article had 
been published. The latter check was so ridicu- 
lously small, for an article that had cost some trouble 
to write, that I was on the point of returning it to 
the editor, when Professor Goodheart — I happened 
to be in Washington at the time — coaxed me out 
of this bit of folly, and told me that he was paid at 
precisely the same rate for his best work in the 
magazine. This mollified my wounded vanity. 
The editor has the writer by the throat, so to speak, 
and if one does not care to accept his terms, there 
are hundreds of others who are glad to do so. 



1 70 The People of Our Parish 

'* But so long as he buys his fiction by the yard, 
you must not expect any great things of its quaUty." 

''Why don't you CathoHc writers do something 
for yourselves through the united efforts of the 
Society of Authors?" said Travis. *' You might 
form a sort of labor union." 

*' There are too many writers, so-called, who would 
not keep to the conditions. The itch of authorship, 
you know." 

'' I think it is a mistake for a writer to attempt to 
remain in so limited a field as our Catholic literature 
is, and must be," said Mrs. Driscoll. '' I am always 
urging Marian to send her work to the big maga- 
zines. Success is much harder to win there, but it 
means so much more when it does come. Many 
Catholic writers, so-called, remain with us — and we 
could see them depart to pastures new with equa- 
nimity, not to say positive pleasure — because they 
cannot secure entrance anywhere else. Then they 
complain because their 'junk,' and it is nothing else, 
is not eagerly bought and read by their co-religion- 
ists ! " 

" At school I was assistant librarian during my 
senior year," put in Mrs. Hartley, " and the girls 
used to come and say, 'Give me a good novel; I 
don't want any of those conversion stories!" 

Everybody laughed. 

We had all been victims to the " conversion" story. 

" The old-fashioned Catholic novel usually re- 
volves about a few well-worn situations," went on 
Mrs. Hartley. " Lovers who separate because of a 
difference of religion, only to come together after 



Catholic Literature 171 

years of suffering have brought to the unbeliever the 
gift of faith, stand easily first; the superhumanly 
good governess or saleswoman who inherits a for- 
tune, forgives her rich and vulgar persecutors, and 
marries the heir to a great house, makes a good 
second. Saving a train from destruction by discov- 
ering a boulder across the track, and walking miles 
in the snow to warn somebody, is not an unpopular 
device. 

** And the heroine is always so beautiful and so 
preternaturally good ; and she has a way of drawing 
out a pearl rosary from a convenient pocket, even 
when fashion forbids pockets to ordinary women; 
then there is, as a matter of course, the scene over 
her tearful refusal to wear a low-cut gown, or to 
dance round dances ; and the flinty-hearted aunt or 
stepmother brought to terms by the appearance of 
a noble lover, who confesses that this maidenly 
modesty first won his exacting affections. 

** Sometimes a writer, composed of flesh and blood 
like the rest of mortals, ventures to put in a bit of 
genuine love-making, and a tiny fault or two in his 
* leading lady,' and also a bit of virtue into the * first 
old woman,' but a cautious publisher, with an eye 
to his 'premium list' insists upon the removal of 
these daring touches, and the restoration of the 
conventional formula." 

'' At any rate, our fiction is infinitely superior to 
the Sunday-school books of our separated brethren," 
said Adele. ** At least we are spared the atrocious 
vulgarity of the * Elsie books,' and the morbid 
emotionalism of some other writers almost as pop- 



172 The People of Our Parish 

ular. A cousin of mine gets books from Dr. Har- 
vey's Sunday-school, and if you could see the stuff 
the poor child reads, I suppose on the advice of her 
teacher, you would thank your stars for the * con- 
version' story of your youth. 

*' It is quite as interesting as the history of the 
good little Protestant boy who does without butter 
in order to buy Bibles to send to the heathen, 
unable to read them, or of the distressing little 
girl who preaches long sermons to her parents, 
and quotes, in self-conscious priggishness, dis- 
quieting texts anent the dark condition of their 
souls/' 

" I am tired of the prefix * Catholic ' attached to 
a story," said Adele. '* Suppose ' Saracinesca ' had 
been thus labelled; readers would have been counted 
by tens, where now they are numbered by thou- 
sands. Give a book a good title, and let its religion 
speak for itself; it must be of a shadowy character 
to require a tag. 

'* Our books will never be received as literature by 
the general public and the reviews so long as they 
bear the label. This omission has nothing to do 
with the tone of the book ; let that be as Catholic as 
truth itself." 

*' Why need we care how our books are received 
so long as we ourselves know that they are litera- 
ture, and of the best?" said Mrs. Mordant. 

" From pure altruism," answered the Doctor ; *' or, 
to speak_ like a Christian, from a charitable desire 
to see the greatest good done to the greatest num- 
ber. So many people never read a book until it is 



Catholic Literature 173 

the fashion to read it, that one does a good work to 
give vogue to the best in literature. 

** Too many Catholics are mentally starving, when 
not morally sick, with treasures of learning all about 
them. 

" Let us omit the label and make our great authors 
the fashion ! " 



XVI 

THE SCHOOL QUESTION 

FROM the very beginning of his pastorate 
Father Ryan has taken a decided stand on 
the school question. In this, despite all opposing 
influence, he has been supported by the Bishop. 

There was a parish school ; that school the pastor 
was determined should be of the best. Regardless 
of the fact that his exchequer was not flourishing, 
he made extensive improvements in the buildings, 
and added to their equipment the best apparatus 
in the market. 

Then he gave his attention to the teachers ; some 
of them were very good, and some were not. The 
superior of the order was informed that she would 
have to send first-class teachers for every room, or 
else he would find another order to take charge; 
and failing in that, he would employ secular 
teachers. 

Absolutely his school must be inferior to none in 
the city. He purchased the best works pertaining 
to teaching and the training of the young, and 
placed them in the school library for the use of his 
teachers ; he organized a teachers' association, and 
once a month presided over the meetings. He did 
not rest until he was sure that his school was all 
that it ought to be, and then he informed the people 



The School Question 175 

that the place for CathoHc children was in Catholic 
schools, either in the parish school or in some one 
of the many good private academies and colleges 
in the city. Only for a very grave reason would 
any dispensation be given from this rule. 

Those able to pay the nominal tuition fees were 
expected to do so ; those who could not were to 
send their children entirely free of charge. 

Then, in the terse phrase of Miss Norrison, '' there 
was a howl.'' 

Mr. Higgins said, in Tom McCarthy's saloon, as 
he gulped his beer and grew red in the face, that 
Father Ryan must remember that we are living in 
the free country of America; that the United 
States is not Ireland, and the nineteenth century 
not the middle ages. His boy was educated in the 
public school, and if he had a dozen children he 
would send them where he pleased. Mr. Dyer, 
who was also drinking beer, happened to know 
that young Gerald Higgins, baptized Jeremiah, 
went to church only when it suited his fancy, and 
that he had not been to the Sacraments for years. 
But Gerald was a handsome boy with a fine position, 
and he was making his way into very good society. 

No wonder Jerry Higgins was proud of his boy. 
Still, Mr. Dyer, whose children were all girls, thought 
that for his own part, he would be better pleased 
if a son of his had not disowned the old faith. 

In Dr. Mordant's library, recently, this school 
question was vigorously discussed. 

*^ I am not opposed to parochial schools," said 
Mr. Travis, the banker. " Far from it. I think 



1 76 The People of Our Parish 

that they do an excellent work; however, I do 
think that Father Ryan has made a mistake in tak- 
ing so decided a stand, at least at present. The 
public-school system is the great shibboleth of 
the American people, and any opposition to it 
at this stage of its development can but prove 
unfortunate." 

*^ But, my dear Travis, who is opposing the pubhc 
school system?" said Dr. Mordant, straightening 
himself so vigorously that the cigar ashes fell in a 
little gray trail down his shirt-bosom. " The public 
schools have their work to do, and we are not trying 
to hinder them in any way. We do not attempt to 
control them or to dictate as to their policy. What 
we do say is that they are not the place for Catholic 
children. If we admit, as certainly we do, that the 
spiritual is higher than the temporal, that all true 
education rests on a religious basis, it is self-evident 
that Catholic children have the inalienable right to 
a Catholic training." 

*^ Nobody questions their right to a Catholic 
training," responded Travis. 

'' But will you tell me, my dear Doctor, what con- 
nection there is between mathematics, for instance, 
and religion? Religious instruction is necessary, 
but it is not the only kind necessary. If a boy 
knows nothing but his catechism he is going to 
stand a very poor show in this world, whatever may 
be his chances for the next. I cannot see why we 
should question the faith of the man or woman who 
teaches our children arithmetic, and geography, and 
grammar, any more than we question the faith of the 



The School Question 177 

dancing-master who teaches them to dance, or the 
musician who teaches them to play the piano. It is 
the duty of the pastor and of the parents to instruct 
the children in religion. That is quite out of the 
sphere of the secular educator/' 

'' Theory is one thing, practice is another/' said 
the Doctor. ** If you could separate the two kinds 
of learning, the religious and the secular, all very 
well. The child is composed of body and soul, and 
if you could separate the two and send the soul to 
one place for spiritual development, and the body 
with a vitalized brain to another, to acquire a knowl- 
edge of the things that belong to the world — But 
why talk nonsense? 

" Then, again, how can a pastor with one or two 
assistants, give the time for the proper instruction of 
the children? Catechism once or twice or three 
times a week is not sufficient, — and how many 
parents have the time or the abiHty to attend to this 
duty for their offspring? The father is away at his 
work or business, and at night he wants to rest, or 
to have a little recreation ; and the overworked 
mother has no time, and in many cases no qualifi- 
cations, to do this. And if the children are at the 
public school all day, where is the opportunity to 
give them their religious training? 

** However, this is but a minor point. Religion is 
not a thing apart, that can be learned and stored 
away in a brain cell for future use ; rather it is an 
essence that must permeate the heart, the soul, the 
intellect ; or, to be philosophical, it must be the vital- 
izing principle in the fourfold activities of the soul, 

12 



178 The People of Our Parish 

• — the aesthetic, the intellectual, the moral, the 
spiritual. 

*' The child in a Catholic school breathes religion, 
so to speak; the garb of the teachers, that habit 
which has caused such spasms of indignation and 
horror in the breasts of good Puritans, is a constant 
reminder to the children of that higher Hfe which 
our Lord has invited chosen souls to follow. The 
crucifix, telling ever of the infinite love of a Saviour 
who died on a cross to redeem mankind, the statue 
of the Blessed Virgin, the pictures of saints on the 
walls, all speak to the little child of its faith. There 
are the prayers at the opening and closing hours. 
When a child begins and ends each important act of 
the day with prayer during the impressionable years 
of youth, the man or woman is not apt to forget this 
duty. Then there is the regular Sunday for con- 
fession and Holy Communion for the school chil- 
dren; they get into the habit of approaching the 
Sacraments, and we all know the tremendous force 
there is in habit, good or bad. 

** And now I come to another telling point: we 
know that such a thing as history impartially taught 
has so far been an impossibility in non-Catholic 
schools ; the holiest practices of our religion, the 
most obvious truths of history, are perverted. What 
loyal Catholic wants his child taught that the Popes 
sold indulgences ; authorized the burning and mur- 
dering of millions of good people because of their 
religious beliefs; that Catholics pay the priest for 
forgiving their sins; that learning arose with the 
Reformation; that people did not read the Bible 



The School Question 179 

until Luther's time, and that enlightened, progres- 
sive countries are Protestant, and the illiterate, 
squalid ones are Catholic; to come under the 
insidious teaching for years that to be a Catholic 
is to be mentally stultified, to be behind the age, 
an object of pity as the victim of a strange per- 
version of intellect? Yet we all know that this is 
the spirit of the public schools. A hundred ex- 
amples could be given from the schools here in 
our own city. 

** Yes, I admit that there are Catholics teaching in 
the public schools ; but the proportion of Catholic 
teachers is very small, and they cannot teach their 
religion even to Catholic children ; they would 
quickly find themselves without a position if they 
made the attempt. Besides, they have no voice in 
the selection of the text-books. Even in the matter 
of mathematics, where Travis was so sure religion 
could not enter, as a matter of fact it has entered. 
In the text-book used in a public school where a 
friend of mine was educated, was an example some- 
thing like this — I quote from memory: If there 
were two hundred thousand Protestants in Spain, 
and the pope put to death ninety-five thousand, 
and sold indulgences to eighteen thousand, and 
banished the rest from the country, how many 
Protestants had to leave Spain?" 

*' Oh, well, such a thing as that would be impos- 
sible in our public schools. The board would not 
tolerate it,'' said Travis. 

** I am not so sure about that. The board has tol- 
erated things almost as offensive to Catholics. You 



I 80 The People of Our Parish 

forget that Coffin's ' Story of Liberty/ a book 
violently anti-Catholic, is one of the reference books 
in the schools/' 

'' I agree fully with Dr. Mordant," put in Mr. 
Vere. ** The place for Catholic children is in 
Catholic schools. If we assert that the Catholic 
faith is the birthright of the Catholic child, we can 
admit nothing else. The impressions of youth can 
never be obliterated. If you take a child at its ten- 
derest age and let him spend the greater part of his 
young life in a school where religion is banished, he 
is apt to grow up to think that religion is, after all, 
but a secondary consideration. He says a few 
hurried morning prayers and rushes off to school, 
where his books are often anti-Catholic, his associ- 
ates non-Catholic, and his teachers Protestant, Jew, 
or infidel, where he hears nothing of God and re- 
ligion, sees nothing to remind him of his faith. Can 
you expect him to grow up to be either very loyal 
or very devout? 

'' On Sundays he is taken to Mass, where he squirms 
about, not having been taught how to assist at the 
Holy Sacrifice; in the afternoon he goes to cate- 
chism for a half-hour, or perhaps he does not. At 
the best, one little lesson a week in religion to five 
long days given up to secular knowledge. 

'^ In the Catholic school the catechism is quite as 
important as mathematics, perhaps more so. The 
child studies Bible History when he is old enough, 
and these branches are continued for years. He is 
as familiar with the life and teaching of Our Lord, 
the heroes of the Old Testament, the history and 



The School Question i 8 i 

dogmas of the Church, as he is with the life of 
Washington or Caesar, and the Constitution of his 
country. Religious truths are as an unknown 
tongue to the child of the public schools except as 
they are taught outside the school. 

** Now as to your comparison, Travis, in regard to 
dancing and music. A child takes a music lesson 
twice a week, and dancing once or twice; these 
things are but incidents in his regular life ; they do 
not take him away from a Catholic environment 
during the greater part of the day, and for every 
day during his school life. No one would object to 
a child^s having lessons in mathematics or French 
from a Jew or an infidel. There is no question but 
that a child's daily training should be not only not 
anti-Catholic, but positively Catholic. 

**Life is not so easy; temptations come soon 
enough, and parents owe it to their children to give 
them all the spiritual strength they can procure. 
Grant that religion is necessary to right living, and 
that the religious parent who brings up an irreligious 
child has failed grossly in his duty, and you grant 
the paramount necessity of the rehgious school. 
This is a free country, and we do not try to force 
those who think differently from us to act from our 
premise. But we demand the same liberty for our- 
selves that we grant to others. 

*' And now, even on their own grounds of material 
progress, we can meet the public schools. At least 
this is so in the St. Paul's parish schools ; there is 
no appliance of science or sanitation that has been 
neglected. We have model schools, and there is no 



i82 The People of Our Parish 

reason why our Catholic children should not be 
sent to them." 

*' You forget a very important reason," said 
Travis. *' At the St. Paul's parish school you must 
pay, and at the public school you go free." 

'' You do not pay unless you are able to do so, 
and I for one should not want my children, to get 
their education for nothing, any more than I should 
want them to get their shoes in the same way." 

** The public schools are supported by the tax- 
payers, and we Catholics pay our taxes just the 
same as anybody else." 

'' Indeed we do," chimed in Mr. Vere. ** And 
no one, even among the very poor, wants to admit 
that he cannot afford to pay his children's tuition 
fees, even w^here paying entails a great hardship ; 
and he will not when he can send them to the public 
school, where everybody is free." 

**We are handicapped there, I admit," replied 
the Doctor, '' and we shall be until we get our 
rights." 

*'What are our rights?" asked Travis, rather 
quizzically. 

'' The right to our proportion per capita of 
the public school fund," answered Dr. Mordant, 
promptly. 

'' You will never get that right," said Travis. 

*^ Don't be too sure of that. Why should we not 
get it? There are a million of Catholic children 
in the parochial schools in the United States; 
should we close these schools and turn the children 
out, the public schools would be compelled to make 



The School Question 183 

room for them. They would have to build addi- 
tional schools, increase the rate of taxation, — and 
the taxpayers would not like that, — and at an enor- 
mous increase of expense provide teachers for these 
children." 

'* That would be a desperate remedy — " 

" For a desperate disease," snapped the Doctor. 

** Catholics pay their taxes, and taxation without 
representation is unconstitutional. We cannot from 
conscientious reasons avail ourselves of the public 
schools; therefore simple law and justice would 
seem to point out the solution of giving us our 
proportion of the school fund." 

*' If that was conceded to Catholics, it would 
have to be conceded to Methodists and Presby- 
terians, or to any religious organization that de- 
manded it," said Travis. 

'' And why not? If the parents of forty Metho- 
dist or Presbyterian children in a community de- 
cided that they wished their children to have a 
religious training, to be taught the religion of their 
parents by teachers competent to impart it, and if 
they are willing to provide the building, and a 
teaching corps who would keep the standard of 
instruction in purely secular branches, which are 
the only concern of the state, up to the standard 
of the public schools, and demanded their propor- 
tion of the public money, the money that the state 
would have to pay for these children if left in the 
public schools, why should their right to this be 
denied? 

** As a matter of fact, whilst the majority of Prot- 



184 The People of Our Parish 

estants are contented to have their children in the 
non-rehgious public schools, there is a minority, and 
not a small minority either, who deplore the secular 
spirit of these schools, and would be very glad to 
have schools of their own. Many of them do have 
their own schools; you have only to look to the 
denominational schools, academies, and colleges 
scattered over the country to acknowledge this. 

** If we made a determined stand we should have 
the support of this minority; for in helping us to 
our rights they would be coming into their own. 

" In England the parish schools receive state aid, 
and are under the supervision of the state board, 
and the plan works satisfactorily to all concerned. 
Why not in this country? 

** Another point in our favor : statistics prove that 
we can educate in our parish schools, and compare 
favorably with the public schools, for about one 
half the cost of the state schools. This is because 
our schools are taught by the religious orders de- 
voted to the work of teaching, who require very 
small salaries, and also because we have no school- 
boards and no book trusts to be fattened out of the 
school fund ; consequently we save all that. It is 
not an unheard-of thing for a member of a school- 
board, serving for no salary, to retire comfortably 
well-off. 

Our school buildings are erected under the per- 
sonal supervision of the pastor, who secures honest 
labor and pays an honest price for it; there is no 
jobbery, no cheating. No man makes a fortune 
when a new parish school is to be built. So, be- 



The School Question 185 

tween our honesty and our teaching orders, we can 
educate our children at a very modest cost com- 
pared with the cost in the pubHc schools. If we 
are willing to take these million children and edu- 
cate them for a dollar a month per capita, say, or ten 
millions of dollars a year, building our own schools 
without state aid, and if it would cost the state 
twenty millions a year for these same children, it 
seems to me that it would be good business policy 
to save the ten millions, and let us educate our 
own." 

'' They know that they can do better than that," 
said Mr. Vere. *' They are sure that we will never 
give up our schools, and so they save the entire 
twenty millions." 

*' There is such a thing as the public conscience," 
retorted Dr. Mordant, '' and there is such a thing 
as the Catholic vote. With these two w^eapons we 
shall in time secure our rights. 

" We have overlooked a very important point 
in regard to our schools — and that is, the asso- 
ciation of our children. The objection has been 
made to parish schools that only the children of the 
lower classes attend them. My experience is that 
practically the same class of children are to be 
found in the parish and the public school. Wealthy 
parents as a rule, both Protestant and Catholic, pre- 
fer private schools for their children. But there 
can be no question that in a parish school where 
the children are from Catholic homes, with religious 
teaching in their lives at school, there is less danger 
from moral contamination than in the public school 



i86 The People of Our Parish 

where children from the shims, from the homes of 
the most degraded vice, can be found side by side 
with the children of the virtuous poor. The social 
character of the childrenin a given school depends 
on the neighborhood ; in a wealthy neighborhood 
they will be of a higher class, socially speaking, 
than in a school near the slums. This is true of 
both parochial and public schools. But certainly I 
should take my chances in a parish school, with 
Catholic children as deskmates for my little ones, 
rather than in- a public school in the same locality. 

''No Catholic father worthy of his children is going 
to risk their spiritual welfare to save the paltry 
dollar a month he must pay for each at the parish 
school." 



XVII 

BOARDING-SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 

MR. TRAVIS had remarked with pardonable 
pride that his son John, expected home 
shortly for the holidays, had carried off the first 
honors in an oratorical contest at Notre Dame. 
Then Captain Claiborne, who is a distant relative of 
the Travises, and therefore privileged to be disagree- 
ably frank, asked if Travis did not think a denomi- 
national school handicapped a boy in the race with 
modern life. Forthwith there was a Babel, — a nice 
sort of Babel, with the accompaniments of tea, 
cushions, easy-chairs, and an open fire in Mrs. 
DriscoU's pretty drawing-room. 

The discussion once turned on schools kept upon 
them, for the Catholic school in all its ramifications, 
from parochial to post-graduate, is the especial hobby 
of old Dr. Mordant. 

*^ Catholic colleges, and institutions calling them- 
selves by that name, are, I fancy, pretty much like 
other things in this world, easily separated into good, 
bad, and indifferent," put in Horace Norrison. 

'' One hears a great deal of adverse criticism of 
this and that college, and comparisons with Harvard 
and Yale, the carpers never seeming to see how 
illogical they are in thus comparing totally distinct 
classes. 



1 88 The People of Our Parish 

*' They take a struggling little school, purporting' 
to give everything, from the classics down to pre- 
paratory branches, unendowed, unknown, the veri- 
est makeshift in a wilderness, so to speak, and send 
a boy there simply because it is ridiculously cheap 
— two hundred dollars for ten months of board and 
tuition, and perhaps laundry. 

'' Then they complain because all the advantages 
of a great Eastern University, with its millions of 
endowment and its high charges, are not forth- 
coming.'* 

'' It is not always easy to make a selection/' said 
Mrs. Hartley. 

'* We had catalogues from a score or more when 
Brother Fred was ready to go to college, and to 
judge from the official eulogies all were equal, be- 
cause all were perfect. The only way to decide 
was to take the best known and the most expensive ; 
I have found out that if you want a good thing you 
have to pay for it.'* 

** Some of our colleges — the title is given merely 
by courtesy — and very many of our convents should 
be suppressed as pious frauds," said Horace ; and a 
cry of horror went up from the company. 

" Not that they mean to be so," he hastened to 
add, *' but they are so through limitations beyond 
their control. In our pioneer days there was 
an excuse, and a reason for being, for the poorly 
equipped and poorly manned college and boarding- 
school — " 

'' How could a convent be ' manned ' ? " whispered 
Adele. 



Boarding-School and College 189 

'' — but that reason no longer exists. 

'' I heard the Bishop of SensopoHs say not a 
month ago that it would be a good thing for educa- 
tion and the Church if many of the boarding-schools 
could be closed, and others forced to keep to a higher 
standard. With railroads going in all directions, and 
travel safe and luxurious as it is, there is no need of 
all the half-baked institutions found everywhere.'' 

** They are quite as good as the * half-baked ' insti- 
tutions of our non-Catholic brethren," put in Mrs. 
DriscoU, ** and in one way infinitely better, for they 
teach religion and morals, and purely secular insti- 
tutions do not." 

" I think that the ' half-baked ' do fill a very seri- 
ous need," said Dr, Mordant. ^'They give to poor 
boys a chance to get a Christian education, who 
otherwise would be forced to remain in ignorance, 
or to put up with cheap secular schools not a whit 
superior. No doubt it is a mistake, generally speak- 
ing, to crowd minims into the Third Reader, and 
sophomores in Greek all in one institution, but it 
is a necessary and temporary inconvenience. 

" I happen to know something of the ' half-baked ' 
institutions — I use Horace's designation for the 
want of a better — of various Protestant sects, and of 
the state, and they labor under the same disadvan- 
tages as our own ; I should even concede to ours 
the superiority, for the reason that the professors, 
being members of the religious order in charge of 
the college, require no salary, thus making possible 
lower terms, and also, because they usually do re- 
ceive a very good training for their work. 



190 The People of Our Parish 

*' There is the University of Boomopohs, for in- 
stance, absurd in its pretensions, and wholly inca- 
pable of any sort of real culture, — a field for a comic 
opera if it were not so serious in its consequences. 
The faculty are miserably paid, forced to do peda- 
gogic drudgery, mercenary, and garbed in thread- 
bare raiment. One man who was, according to the 
catologue, professor of Latin and Greek and Eng- 
lish, taught the elements of English grammar to the 
sons of neighboring farmers. 

" If you compare schools of the same class, we 
have nothing to be ashamed of, or to regret. 

'' If a Catholic father wishes to give his son a col- 
lege training with the surroundings of a gentleman 
and the appliances of science and art, he can easily 
find the college. 

'* A very serious drawback to our colleges," said 
Horace, '' is the restrictions which they impose. It 
is all very well to pen up small boys, put them to 
bed at nine o'clock, and confine their walks to the 
school campus, but young men at college will not 
submit to these regulations, — certainly our twentieth- 
century American young men will not, — and as a 
consequence we see them going to the great secular 
universities instead of to our own." 

'' I call the restrictions a wise precaution," an- 
swered the Doctor. '' If you knew of all the im- 
morality, drunkenness, gambling, and midnight 
carousals and debauches that go on at the secular 
universities you would thank God for the Catholic 
college and its restrictions." 

'' If a young man is naturally vicious, college walls 



Boarding-School and College 191 

are not going to make him virtuous/' returned 
Horace. 

*' In a way they may," asserted the Doctor. ** If 
a youth is forced to be good for the four years of 
his college course, — four critical years in the de- 
velopment of his character, — he may decide to be 
good for all time. On the other hand, you take a 
boy on the threshold of manhood and turn him 
loose in a great university, practically his own mas- 
ter outside of recitation hours, with no home influ- 
ence, far from his mother's eye, perhaps caught in 
the maelstrom of bad associates before he knows it, 
temptation in an alluring guise before him, nothing 
to fear from society, and nothing but a weak con- 
science, easily blinded, to stand between him and 
moral ruin, is it any wonder that so many of the 
young men come out roues and infidels?" 

^* You are rather severe, aren't you?" queried 
Horace. 

^* No, I am not ; I wish I were ! I speak of what I 
have seen. Not that all college men are bad, or the 
majority of them, but many are ; and no Christian 
parent has a right to expose his son to needless 
temptation." 

'' If you muzzle your boy at college," returned 
Horace, '' you have merely postponed an inevitable 
condition, for temptation is waiting for him at the 
gates of the college when he leaves. If he has not 
stamina enough to be a man, acting as a free agent, 
his virtue is hardly worth bothering about. " 

*' A man can carry a burden easily where a child 
would break down under it," said the Doctor; '' but 



192 The People of Our Parish 

according to your reasoning one should expect the 
child, with its undeveloped muscles, to carry as 
much as the man, and just as easily." 

'^ I think there is something to be said on both 
sides," hastily interposed Travis. '^ Too much hb- 
erty is given boys in our secular colleges, and not 
enough in our own. The English are wiser than we. 
No Oxford student has a tithe of the liberty afforded 
a Harvard man." 

'' Yet we read of very dreadful things laid to the 
door of the Oxford men," said Mrs. Driscoll. 

'* If that proves anything it proves that the re- 
strictions should be even greater," answered Dr. 
Mordant. 

'' I still incline to the opinion that if a boy wants 
to be a ruffian he will be one in spite of your restric- 
tions," put in Horace. 

'' I am not in favor of treating young men as one 
would treat small boys." 

'* This country is ready for a great CathoHc uni- 
versity," said Travis, '' the equal in every way, in 
intrinsic worth and general prestige, of Oxford and 
Harvard. We have not such an institution, admir- 
able as many of ours are, and we gain nothing by 
pretending that we have." 

'' The Catholic University at Washington — " pro- 
tested Mrs. Driscoll. 

** So long as that confines itself to post-graduate 
work it counts for very little in the general scheme 
of collegiate education. If the Catholic University 
would open its doors to the undergraduate, and re- 
ceive him without asking him to retire at nine 



Boarding-School and College 193 

o'clock, and to obtain permission to go to the city 
to buy a necktie, then, indeed, a glorious era would 
begin for Catholic education." 

**The powers that be are inflexibly opposed to 
that move," put in Dr. Mordant. 

^*Not all the powers, by any means," said Horace. 
^* There is- a growing sentiment in favor of the 
undergraduate work. Theoretically, the opposition 
is right, granting certain premises ; but I do not 
grant them. The wealth, the buildings, the faculty 
of the university, all are commensurate with a large 
body of students, and the students are not there. It 
proves nothing to point to the Johns Hopkins in 
Baltimore as limiting itself to post-graduate work, 
for it is fed from countless sources closed to the 
Catholic University. Even if that were not so, if we 
had a great university for the undergraduate, one 
with the prestige of Oxford and Yale or Harvard, — 
I ring the changes on those names because they 
stand in popular estimation for what I mean, — 
we might leave the Washington University to its 
chosen sphere." 

*' I am afraid you will have to leave it there any- 
way," laughed Adele. 

** Its sphere is surely an exalted one," said Travis, 
enthusiastically. 

^* It is destined to revolutionize the intellectual 
life of this country. 

*^ Its chairs are filled with men of genius — the 
universities of the world have been canvassed for 
talent — and its possessions already are reckoned in 
millions. With schools of Divinity, Law, Medicine, 

13 



1 94 The People of Our Parish 

Science, Literature, waiting for the young man when 
he finishes his college course, its very existence is 
an incentive to him to round out his manhood by 
devoting himself, with his trained faculties, to the 
higher learning. 

'' It is appallingly true that liberal culture in our 
country has hitherto rested largely on Agnosticism, 
open or insidious. 

'* The University where St. Thomas sits in triumph, 
will solve the riddles of a questioning age by the 
keys of Thomist philosophy and Christian law. 

*' Then let us work for the University, give to it, 
speak for it, herald it proudly ! '' 

*' Bravo ! " in chorus. 

** And what the University is doing for men, 
Trinity College, in a lesser degree, will do for 
women. If it meets the expectations that it has 
aroused, Trinity will be a dominant intellectual 
power in that ever widening kingdom of woman. 
The higher education of woman is no longer a 
theory, it is a glorious fact. And the Church that 
has steadily exalted womanhood, now provides a 
training for American girls commensurate with the 
possibilities of her influence." 

'^ If the college were to be an integral part of the 
University I should feel much more elated over its 
foundation," said Adele. *' You know Professor 
Harry Thurston Peck's dictum that women are not 
held up to the same standard of intellectual excel- 
lence as men. They do very well considering their 
sex. We don't want any of this insufferable con- 
descension in the world's attitude towards Trinity 



Boarding-School and College 195 

College. If the students could study for University- 
degrees, with the University examinations ever 
before them, I should don cap and gown and enter 
myself as a candidate. 

*' Why should not Trinity College be a part of the 
Catholic University just as Balliol College is a part 
of the University of Oxford? 

^^ That would be something worth while ! '* 

*' And that may come," said kindly Mrs. Driscoll. 
** Once upon a time a woman was professor in the 
Catholic University of Padua." 

*' We have admirable institutions, but they lack 
prestige,*' said the Doctor. '^ And if the number of 
the really good colleges were multipHed the poor 
ones would be forced to the wall. Let us fight un- 
ceasingly for at least one representative university, 
with as many of the merely excellent as we can 
get, and death from inanition to the poor ones ; let 
us have preparatory schools distinct from the col- 
lege; it is ridiculous for a boy in geography and 
grammar to be numbered on the rolls of a college. 
One might ask what's in a name — but there is a 
good deal in a name, sometimes. Let each college 
have its preparatory school if it finds a need of it, 
but let it advertise it as a school, and not under 
the heading of * college.' Dr. O'Malley, in his 
able articles on the Catholic college, insists upon 
this." 

** I thought that he insisted upon reclaiming the 
Catholic boy from the non-Catholic college," mur- 
mured Adele. 

" The fight for success is hard enough as it is, 



196 The People of Our Parish 

without handicapping a youth by depriving him of 
the best education possible for him to obtain. And 
if Harvard and Yale give a training and prestige to 
their men unknown to the Catholic college, Harvard 
and Yale will get the student," declared Travis. 

'' I fancy that it is the man himself that counts, 
and not his college," answered the Doctor. 

'' The college will often help a man to a position 
impossible to him through any other means at his 
command," said Travis. 

'' I don't like to hear any of our schools spoken 
of as poor," put in peace-loving Mrs. Driscoll. ^' I 
feel towards them as the Kentuckian does about his 
whiskey, — some kinds of w^hiskey are better than 
others, but there is none bad." 

" Some of them are mighty poor stuff," answered 
Horace, gloomily. 

''Kinds of whiskey or schools?" returned his 
cousin. 

'' Both ! " 

*' I had a youth in my office who had been gradu- 
ated from one of the half-baked colleges — mummi- 
fied, I ought to say, because it has many years 
behind it — who actually couldn't write the simplest 
letter. He did n't even know how to spell, and yet he 
had droned through Csesar and geometry. And his 
language was appalling. ' Had n't ought ' was one 
of his favorite expressions. And the poor chap 
had not even the most elementary conception of 
good breeding, — kept his hat on in the house, 
leaned his head against my freshly papered walls, 
and once I saw him at a restaurant with his napkin 



Boarding-School and College 197 

tucked around his neck, and swallowing soup from 
the end of a pewter spoon/' 

*' I should lay those things to his home training/' 
put in Mrs. Hartley. 

'' Well, suppose you do ! Why, do you think, did 
his poor father sacrifice his hard-earned dollars in 
sending him to college if he did not want his boy to 
get what he could not have at home ? I consider the 
rector of that particular institution just as much of a 
thief as if he had helped himself to the lad's pocket- 
book— " 

'' Oh, Horace ! " 

'* He had obtained money under false pretences. 
I saw the catalogue of the school, and it claimed to 
give a thorough training, classical and commercial, 
to attend to the morals, and to set a good table. 
The food was awful, and the training — well, a boy 
coming with a diploma from that college would 
have taken the surest means possible to be barred 
from my employment." 

" Perhaps he was naturally stupid." 

** No, he was not ; on the contrary, he was very 
clever, and the fact that he taught himself the rudi- 
ments of our language, and something of the code 
of a gentleman, acting on a hint from your humble 
servant, proves it. And if he were, why in the name 
of common honesty should he have been given a 
diploma?" 

" I wish to say a word in regard to the food of the 
average cheap school," put in Mrs. Driscoll. ** What 
sort of table can one reasonably expect in institu- 
tions where the charges for board and tuition are 



198 The People of Our Parish 

not more than two hundred dollars, often less, and 
with even this small sum not always paid ? The 
wonder is that they can afford anything at all to 
eat ! Suppose you allow fifty dollars for lodging, 
fuel, and light, and in some cases, laundry, and fifty 
dollars for tuition, — and the figures are ridiculously 
small, — you have left one hundred dollars for board, 
ten dollars a month. Why, the poorest, roughest 
boarding-house intended for roustabouts would 
charge more than that. A boy who complains of 
the food in a two-hundred-dollar college, even if he 
lives on bread and sauer-kraut, should be branded 
as a cad." 

'' I don't agree with you," said Horace. The boy 
does n't set the charges, he pays the price asked. 
Why don't the schools charge more, if they cannot 
fulfil the implied contract between school and par- 
ent at the old rate?" 

'^ And if they did, many a poor boy would be 
barred out through poverty. No, the cheap school 
fills a need ; let the well-to-do boy pay more and 
go to the school giving what he desires." 

^' I know of some boarding-schools for girls where 
the charges are only a hundred and fifty dollars," 
put in Mrs. Hartley. 

'' The poor girls must live on bread and cheese 
and slate-pencils," answered Horace. 

" They do nothing of the sort. And in at least 
one school of that class there is an excellent table. 
Minnie Glover goes there, and if you can please a 
Glover you can please anybody. The superior is a 
very holy woman, and I am incHned to think that 



Boarding-School and College 199 

the miracle of the loaves and fishes is constantly 
repeated for her benefit.'* 

** The trouble is that we have entirely too many 
boarding-schools for girls; consequently many of 
them are not adequately supported," said the Doctor. 

" Wretched aff"airs some of them are, too," added 
Mrs. Hartley. 

'^ The majority of them are excellent,"- said Mrs. 
Driscoll. 

** They charge too little," said Travis. 

" Poor girls cannot pay more," returned Mrs. 
Driscoll. 

*' Whether cheap or expensive, the schools should 
be forced to meet a certain standard," said Dr. 
Mordant. ^^ If they undertake to train girls at all, 
and advertise themselves as capable of doing so, 
they should in common honesty be held to the 
implied contract. 

'' My greatest complaint against the poor schools 
is that they do not pay sufficient attention to the 
physical training of their pupils," continued the 
Doctor. " I have been called to schools where 
some of the girls were covered with pimples, some 
were sallow, some too fat, many too thin, some 
knock-kneed, others bowlegged, some with squint- 
ing eyes, bad teeth, half of them with gaping 
mouths, breathing, not through their noses as 
nature intended, but through their mouths, and in 
one school to which I go not one of the girls in 
it knows how to walk. They all go shambling 
along, heels down first, or pigeon-toed. Bah! It 
is enough to sicken one ! " 



200 The People of Our Parish 

'' But surely, Doctor, you don't hold the Sisters 
responsible for those things," cried Mrs. Driscoll. 

*' Why, to be sure I do ! Sisters take the place 
for the time of the mothers or guardians of those 
girls, and assuredly it is their place to look after 
their well-being, physically as well as intellectually 
and morally. 

'' You would n't hold them blameless, would you, 
if diphtheria broke out in the school, and they left 
the means of preservation to the girls themselves? 
I insist that physical culture and health have just as 
much place in a boarding-school course as mathe- 
matics, and even more. What good is her mathe- 
matics going to be to a girl if she is ugly and 
deformed, or under-formed through lack of proper 
care in her school days? It is all very well to 
try to keep girls from being vain of beauty, but 
a well-formed body, a clear complexion and good 
teeth are not matters of vanity, but of common- 
sense. I think that every community of nuns 
should have a physician among their number, or 
at least a trained nurse, thoroughly familiar with 
the laws of health. 

'^ Fresh air, exercise, and water can be had in the 
cheap school as well as in the expensive, and where 
girls suffer through lack of any of these I should 
hold the Sisters in charge to a very strict account. 

** In this same school there is one bath-tub to 
sixty girls; and two baths a year, so I was told 
by one of the pupils, are the ordinary allowance. 
Worse still, the girls are forced to go to a wash- 
room and stand in rows at stationary washstands 



Boarding-School and College 201 

to perform their daily ablutions. What sort of 
cleanliness can they have under such conditions?" 

''That is a dreadful exception, Doctor. In all the 
schools that I know anything about, the girls sleep 
in curtained alcoves, and have their washstands by 
the bed, where they can have a sponge bath every 
night and morning if they so please, in absolute 
privacy. 

'' And each girl has a tub-bath with plenty of hot 
water at least once a week.'' 

*' There should n't be any exceptions. 

'' And I confess that I have a prejudice against 
dormitories," went on the Doctor. '' How can a 
girl be perfectly healthy sleeping in a room with 
some twenty or thirty others, some sick and some 
snoring." 

'' Dormitories are the necessary corollary of the 
cheap school. Let a girl pay for it, and she can 
have a private room in scores of convents. Besides, 
the dormitories are always thoroughly ventilated, 
and an abundance of fresh air is secured. Thirty 
girls in a dormitory allowing eight feet of space to 
a girl, is less harmful than a twelve-foot room with 
one w^indow given up to two girls," insisted Mrs. 
Driscoll. 

'' Yet in some of the nicest finishing-schools in 
New York two girls occupy a room no larger than 
this, and they pay five times as much as the girl 
in the dormitory. I do not defend the dormitory^ 
mind, except as a necessary attendant of the cheap 
school. You hear parents complain of this feature 
of a school, with covert allusions to some secular 



202 The People of Our Parish 

boarding-school, and you want to ask why, in the 
name of Whateley's logic, they do not send their 
daughters to a convent where private rooms are 
to be had for much less than the secular school 
would charge. 

" It is grossly unfair to compare schools of one 
class — I mean in regard to the cost — with schools 
of an entirely different class. The cheap convent 
gives far more for the money than does the cheap 
secular school. I insist upon this as holding good 
in every locality and with every school. Name one 
secular boarding-school in the United States where 
for a hundred and fifty dollars a girl can get as good 
a training, and as comfortable living accommodations 
as she can get in a convent charging that rate. The 
fact that the Sisters have no salaries, and that there 
are members of the community who do the cooking 
and housework, easily explain how this can be. 

"Some of the schools, I admit, could be better.'* 

'* My complaint against the less good is that they 
do not pay any attention, or very little, to the man- 
ners of the girls," said Mrs. Hartley. 

" Their pupils are as ignorant in this line as Mr. 
Norrison's office-boy." 

'^ In many of these schools the teachers are 
women of common family and very ordinary attain- 
ments when they embrace the religious life," said 
Mrs. Driscoll ; " and after two short years in the 
novitiate, during which they must learn the rudi- 
ments of many things, they are turned out to teach. 
What can you expect of them ? " 

'* I expect them to devote as much time as is 



Boarding-School and College 203 

necessary, whether two years or ten, to fit them for 
a grave and responsible position ; none is more so," 
answered Mrs. Hartley. 

** In every community of nuns there are to be 
found ladies, — ladies by birth, breeding, and envi- 
ronment, — and these might enhghten their Sisters 
in religion." 

" On the other hand, many of the pupils in these 
schools are from a rank in life where social usages 
and gentle manners are quite unknown," returned 
Mrs. Driscoll. *^ When Mary Brown, whose parents 
can just read and write, returns from boarding- 
school to a stuffy flat over her father's carpenter- 
shop, of what service would be her training in the 
arts of refined society? She was sent to school to 
get the rudiments of an education, and to be taught 
her rehgion, — how to be a good true woman in her 
own sphere, and not to be fitted for a society which 
she may not enter. 

*' Good manners belong to a woman's training, no 
matter what her sphere. And in this country a 
girl's sphere is just as exalted as she can attain, 
either through marriage, or through her father's 
success in business. There are women who now 
take a prominent place in the best society who were 
once very poor, and, it may be added parentheti- 
cally, very ignorant, girls. 

'* Then again you assume that only girls of humble 
station are found in the cheap school ; as a matter 
of fact girls of the nicest families are found in them. 
A father may have a house full of girls, and a limited 
income, and yet be a gentleman, and desire for his 



204 The People of Our Parish 

offspring the training of a gentleman's daughters. 
And very ill-bred, lowly born pupils are to be 
found in the fashionable and expensive schools. 
One of the most ridiculously snobbish creatures I 
ever knew came from a noted convent school, the 
daughter of a successful mechanic.'' 

'' My dear madam, you cannot cut one coat to 
fit a big man and a little one at the same time," 
said the Doctor. '' Generally speaking, you will 
find in the cheap school girls of a lower class than 
you find in the expensive one, and this is not say- 
ing that nice girls do not go to the cheap school, 
nor un-nice girls to the expensive. 

** In fact, when you come to judge of convent 
schools you are adopting a very unfair test when 
you take the money test; for some cheap schools 
are famous and deservedly so, with a roll of dis- 
tinguished pupils. In selecting a school one has 
to use discretion, just as in selecting anything else. 
If you accept 'their own catalogues all schools are 
admirable ; the better way is to be guided by the 
advice of some one who knows." 

*' Wait until the college for girls at Washington 
opens its door; then we shall have the perfection 
of a school system," said Adele. 

** Heaven speed the day ! " answered Mrs. Driscoll. 
"But there is yet another institution I should like 
to see materiaHze, and that is a Catholic finishing- 
school, — I know of no other term, — a school to 
which girls might go after completing the course at 
an ordinary convent, and undergo a supplementary 
training such as is offered by the fashionable New 



Boarding-School and College 205 

York finishing-school, plus much more, and minus 
something; the woman's college does not offer any- 
thing to the merely average girl, more intent on 
having a nice time in society and finding a suitable 
husband than in acquiring the higher mathematics, 
or writing the great American novel. 

** Rich Catholic girls are found in the non-Catholic 
finishing-school, even in schools distinctly sectarian, 
and they usually come out the worse Catholics. 
Such a school — it might be advertised as a post- 
graduate school, with courses for special students 
and parlor boarders — would fill a very real want. 
And we have Catholic gentlewomen, cultured and 
beautifully educated, who could make it a brilliant 
success. 

** There are so many things that a girl in society 
must know, and which the average school does not 
touch. Social usages, to begin with, appreciation 
of art, music, the drama, current literature. Many 
girls go to the finishing-schools in our Eastern cities 
solely for these things, and not to study at all. The 
Catholic girl who is to become a social leader needs 
to be especially well grounded in her faith, its his- 
tory as well as its dogmas, and she needs to be 
shown the things that tend for culture from the 
Catholic point of view. Art, for instance, may 
make you coarse, or it may make you like unto 
the angels ; and current Hterature can easily give an 
agnostic turn to a weak mind. 

** I have known several Catholic girls from the 
fashionable finishing-schools, but I have never known 
one who could be called pious," 



2o6 The People of Our Parish 

*'I am not sure that we have reached the point 
where a Catholic finishing-school would really fill 
a want ; the fashionable convents give a very good 
finish, even if the girls are not taken to the theatre," 
said Mrs. Hartley. 

*^ What we really do need is an increased number 
of select day-schools, and a diminished number of 
poor boarding-schools. 

'' We cannot have too many day-schools, for the 
select day-school usually gets the cream of the 
Protestant girls of a town or city, where a boarding- 
school might get very poor milk. In fact, if I had 
not talked so much already I should enter a pro- 
test against the kind of girls some boarding-schools 
accept among their pupils. Not infrequently a girl 
who is unmanageable at home, or on the road to the 
bad, is shipped off to some unsuspecting convent. 

'' It is much easier to have a good day-school than 
boarding-school; food, baths, fresh air, physical 
culture, are thrown on the shoulders of the parent. 
The nuns need concern themselves with the curricu- 
lum alone. But in boarding or day schools, a high 
standard should prevail. 

" Teachers of music who are but mediocre musi- 
cians, artists who daub atrocious landscapes, vocal- 
ists who ruin promising voices, scientists who 
cannot perform the simplest laboratory experi- 
ments, teachers of literature who give their pupils 
the wretched twaddle found in some school hbraries 
simply because the heroine is impossibly good, 
superiors who let the girls under them stumble 
through a shallow course without physical culture, 



Boarding-School and College 207 

— all these things belong to the dark age of Amer- 
ican education, and should have no place in the 
triumphant era we have made for ourselves." 

** As the eldest woman present I am entitled to 
the last word," said Mrs. Driscoll ; ^' and that last 
must be a eulogy. 

*^ When I think of all the sacrifices that have been 
made in the cause of Catholic schools, I find it hard 
to hear patiently the slightest word in their dis- 
praise. They are not perfect ; some of them could 
be much better, and perhaps a few might be dis- 
pensed with altogether. But the Catholic school in 
its ordinary integrity is the finest triumph of Catho- 
Hc truth in our time. 

^^ Its history is a history of heroic sacrifice, of the 
heavy burden of double taxation, of a fight against 
fearful odds, and of an unqualified victory at the 
end. 

*^ The teachers may not always be as thoroughly 
fitted for their high office as one might wish ; but 
they are the intellectual equals of teachers in the 
secular schools, and in personal character their 
superiors. 

** The discipline of the convent, its very atmosphere, 
so to speak, gives something to the youthful soul 
coming under its formative influence that nothing 
else can even imitate. 

** The silent example of the Sisters — tenderly nur- 
tured daughters of happy and luxurious homes, many 
of them — who have given their Hves to the glorious 
work of education ; their patience, sweetness of tem- 
per, nobility of character, fidelity to the regular, 



2o8 The People of Our Parish 

arduous life of the religious, — the real poverty, the 
unquestioning obedience, the beautiful purity, the 
fasts, silence, early rising, multiplied devotions, 
and unceasing toil, — are object lessons not easily 
forgotten. 

'' Besides, there is a very real training of the 
characters of the pupils, be the material however 
unpromising. 

*' The invaluable discipline of regularity of life, re- 
curring hours for prayer, for study, for class, the 
ladylike courtesy exacted from the pupils among 
themselves and towards their teachers, the ideal con- 
stantly before them of a noble Christian woman- 
hood, — cannot be measured by any extraneous gain 
of fashion or modern comforts. 

'' And even though the girls are not Catholic, and 
are forbidden by their parents to become so, yet 
they Hve in an atmosphere of religion ; it is the 
inspiring motive of the existence around them, it 
animates the text-books, is held before them as the 
conserver of morality, the essence of the fine flower 
of true womanhood. 

*' If this were not recognized by the world at large 
we should not see our convents filled with the 
daughters of strict Protestant families. 

*' The careful mother knows that in convent walls 
her daughter, no matter what the vivacity of her 
spirits, or faults of her temperament, is absolutely 
safe, and that there, if anywhere, her character can 
be moulded and corrected in the way a true mother 
instinctively desires. 

^* No girl can pass through the ordinary course of a 



Boarding-School and College 209 

convent and not learn that hardest of all lessons, self- 
control, without which other lessons are futile. 

'' And in addition she gets all that other schools of 
the same class give, and in many instances much 
more; and when one remembers how little in the 
way of money she gives in return, the wonder is 
that the convents, numerous as they are, can con- 
tain the throngs of eager seekers at these Pierian 
springs/' 



14 



XVIII 

A NOTE ON FUNERALS 

IF the Chinese autocrat who went through our 
country asking questions had chanced to go to 
St. Paul's this morning, he would certainly have 
inquired what prominent man was dead. 

A line of carriages stretched well into the second 
block, and the hearse, with waving plumes, stood 
near the entrance of the church. Inside the edi- 
fice a coffin with silver handles rested on the 
catafalque, and piled on the side altar and the com- 
munion railing were masses of beautiful flowers in 
the conventional funereal designs of crosses and 
anchors. In the pew reserved for the family were 
three women smothered in crape. The occasion 
was the funeral of poor Jerry Desmond, a calker 
in the Arlington shops. 

One might well ask what was the good of all 
this panoply of grief. None to the bereft widow 
and little ones, and certainly none to the departed. 

His friends who filled those carriages were 
taking a half-holiday which they could not afford, 
and were paying five dollars for each carriage, 
which they could not afford, either; a goodly num- 
ber of them, with the best intentions in the world, 
had bought costly flowers, also beyond their means, 
and which served absolutely no purpose. The 
Church decries flowers at funerals, and will not 



A Note on Funerals 2 1 1 

permit them around the bier; and merely to deck 
the grave with them seems rather a costly tribute 
from poverty to a poetic fancy. 

This question of flov^ers at funerals has been a 
matter of contention for a long time. It is the 
custom in America to send flowers, and if one fails 
to do so there is the fear that a lack of regard may 
be imputed to one. On the other hand, the clergy 
seek to do av^ay with the custom as not in keeping 
with the spirit of mourning and the solemn office 
of the Church for her departed children. 

Some one recently suggested the plan of having 
cards for masses sent to the family. 

The form might be something like this: — 



Ptttflatorian Societs 



®i)ttrti) of &t ^aul tlje Apostle 
fl^ols Sacrifice of |Mass 

Win ht offereti for tl^e ^oul of 



On the back of the card would be : — 



Wit'b tfte ?pmpatl)p of 



2 1 2 The People of Our Parish 

Instead of sending flowers, a friend would pro- 
cure one or more of these cards from the pastor, 
paying the usual honorarium, fill in the blank with 
the name of the departed, write his own name on 
the back of the card, and enclose it to the family. 
These cards would be presented to the pastor of 
the church named on the card, who would assign 
the dates for the Masses, and the priests to say 
them. 

In this way several hundred Masses might be 
secured, where otherwise perhaps not ten would 
be offered. 

To extend the good work, an arrangement might 
be made whereby a portion of the Masses would be 
assigned to priests in poor missions, thus enabling 
them to live and labor in regions too thinly popu- 
lated to support a priest. 

Flowers look out of place in a church decked in 
black, — black shrouding the altar and covering 
the candlesticks, a black pall over the bier, the 
vestments of the priest, black, the undertaker in 
black, the pallbearers in black, and the pews filled 
with sobbing women covered with black, their 
crape veils sweeping almost to the floor; they 
would seem hardly more so if worn in the corsage 
of a widow in deepest mourning. 

The funeral of Jerry Desmond, who was glad to 
work for three dollars a day, probably cost some- 
thing over four hundred dollars, and this included 
but a single requiem Mass. 

It would be interesting to know how many of the 
senders of flowers had Masses offered up for the 



A Note on Funerals 213 

repose of his soul, or gave alms for the same pious 
intention. 

Friends show their love for the dear ones gone 
by attending the funeral services at the church, 
offering Masses for them, praying for them, and 
performing good works for them — forever beyond 
doing anything for themselves. 

It is easy for a man to get excused from work 
for an hour to go to the church, but a half -day to 
go to the cemetery often means the loss of a half- 
day's pay. 

The mourning of the poor seems peculiarly 
pitiful; the silver coffin-handles and the yards of 
crape are a tax to custom especially hard to be 
borne at the very time when other expenses are 
piled up at a fearful rate. 

Why should not the undertaker supply veils to 
the mourners along with the gloves for the pall- 
bearers.'^ Let the poor man's widow wear black 
for two years if she wishes, or for a lifetime, but 
in the name of sober sanity, why should she shroud 
herself in the costly weeds suited to purses much 
fuller than hers? The cheap variety of crape is an 
abomination, condemned by the doctors as dele- 
terious to health, and forbidden by fashion for its 
hideousness. 

Why should money troubles come as a crushing 
weight to trouble that is already heavy enough.? 

The debts incurred through a death in the family 
have caused ruin to many a humble household. 
Everything seems to combine to make them as 
heavy as possible : one cannot haggle over a coffin, 



214 The People of Our Parish 

and the best seems none too good for the beloved 
form; the doctor's bill comes in, and the milliner's 
— ten dollars apiece for bonnets that probably cost 
three. On the one occasion when common human- 
ity would suggest moderation, the profits must 
needs be the highest. 

The expenses at the church must be paid, usually 
in advance. 

This is reasonable, for whilst the rites of the 
church are free, the attendant expenses must be 
met; the choir for a requiem Mass must be paid, 
the candles cost something, the heating of the 
church much more, and, finally, it is only fair that 
the officiating clergy should be supported by those 
whom they serve. 

In anticipation of this last act in life's drama, 
many of our people join burial associations, and 
the expenses are met through assessments on the 
members. 

Funeral expenses are, admittedly, too high for 
the well-to-do as much as for the poor. Simply 
because a man leaves a competence to his family is 
no reason why a clique should unite in getting as 
much as possible for themselves. 

There is scope for reform here, and work for the 
organized charities. Surely the burial associations 
might secure more reasonable terms. 

It must strike one as a sort of anachronism that 
Jerry Desmond, living in a gaslit flat in a bustling 
American city, should have had a wake, — the very 
name calls up a thatched cottage on a desolate 
moor, the peat-bog or the furze and purpling 



A Note on Funerals 215 

heather, with the salt mist in one's nostrils, the 
wild croon of a bowed, shawled form ringing haunt- 
ingly in one's ears, — but so he had, and a rousing 
one, too. One hesitates to write the word ** dis- 
graceful," considering the kind intentions of the 
assembly. Had it not been for the stilled form in 
the corner, one might have mistaken the occasion 
for a party. There was much eating and drinking 
(not of water or coffee only), many racy stories, 
and genial hilarity. Bridget, Miss Norrison's par- 
lor maid, spent the night at the wake, and said she 
had a "perfectly splendid time.'* The house was 
crowded, but no one thought of saying the rosary and 
litanies, or devoting the long night-hours to a sober 
meditation on the final end of all things earthly. 

And the people who filed out of the church, and 
into those forty or more waiting carriages, although 
supposed to be "mourners," and called such by 
courtesy, concealed their grief by a jovial exterior. 

On the return journey from the cemetery there 
was a stop, somewhat prolonged, at Mart Nornian's 
"Halfway House." 

In Rome, in a different grade of society, one 
sees empty carriages, the blinds drawn, in a funeral 
procession, but their owners are enjoying them- 
selves elsewhere. We are shocked at the Roman's 
heartlessness, but not at that of Desmond's friends. 

Etiquette fights a battle with sincerity, even in 
the shadow of death. Sometimes a disregard of 
convention steps in, and then the spectacle develops 
into the unexpected. 

A young widow attended a ball clad in sable 



21 6 The People of Our Parish 

habiliments, and danced with the man who soon 
afterwards afforded her consolation. People were 
amazed, as they had a right to be. Well-bred 
people who can afford to do so usually go to 
Europe to display their indifference; bereaved 
ones who keep to the strictest seclusion in New 
York go to the opera or the horse-show, or even 
to receptions, in Paris. 

Ruth McEnery Stuart, in her own droll way, 
chronicles the proud satisfaction with which a 
bride in darkeydom showed herself in church, lean- 
ing on the arm of Number Two, clad in new and 
deepest mourning for Number One, the outfit 
being a wedding present from her devoted spouse. 

Mourning is intended to be a shelter for aching 
hearts against the demands of society ; when it is 
looked upon as a galling handicap to pleasure it 
is time to lay it aside. 

And in our cemeteries, filled with costly monu- 
ments, one may be pardoned for conjecturing just 
what proportion denotes grief for the dead, and 
what merely the vanity of the living. 

A widow left in very moderate circumstances 
spent two thousand dollars for a granite shaft, and 
kept the vault filled with costly flowers; but in 
two years she had another husband, and her father- 
less children look neglected; or, perhaps, one 
merely imagines that they do. 

Men are not a whit more consistent in their 
mourning; but then society, in portioning out the 
virtues, always assigns the lion's share to women, 
and holds them to corresponding account. 



A Note on Funerals 217 

A few Sundays ago our new curate read out 
among the announcements that there was a promise 
of marriage between John O'Brien and Mary 
Muldoon, and, further on in the list, that there 
would be a Mass on Friday for the repose of the 
soul of Martha O'Brien, — the aforesaid Martha 
being the deceased wife of John. Of course every- 
body smiled. Possibly this was a bit of pious re- 
taliation on the part of John's eldest daughter. 

The living may forget, but the Church does not. 
The Purgatorian Society has long been established 
in our parish, and a trifling alms secures for the 
dear ones dead its inestimable benefits of prayers 
and good works. 



XIX 

INSTRUCTING THE PASTOR 

WHEN Father Ryan had completed his theo- 
logical studies, and was pronounced by 
his superiors ready for ordination, the Bishop was 
satisfied that the young man was capable of in- 
structing the ignorant, and looking after the 
spiritual welfare of the learned. And when, after 
ten years of assistant work, and the pastoral charge 
of a small church in the country, he was assigned 
to the old and flourishing parish of St. Paul the 
Apostle, the thought did not once occur to his 
Lordship that there was grave doubt as to the 
clergyman's fitness for this arduous position. 

That was because by some oversight the Bishop 
had not consulted Mrs. Higgins. If that zealous 
lady were only one of the diocesan council, a good 
many pastors who rest securely in the misplaced 
confidence of their Bishop and flocks would find 
themselves officially decapitated. 

" Oh, and it was the good priest we had in 
Father O'Brien's time. He preached the gospel, 
and was not foreverlastingly after money, money, 
money!" said Mrs. Higgins to Mrs. Dyer, as she 
sat in the rocking-chair by Mrs. Dyer's front win- 
dow, to rest after coming from High Mass, 



Instructing the Pastor 219 

"Whatever possessed the Bishop to remove him, 
when everybody liked him so well is what nobody 
knows. It seems that if you have a priest that 
just suits the people and the parish, and the Bishop 
finds it out — off the poor priest goes, I think, 
and so does Mr. Higgins, that since the people 
have to support the priests, the people ought to 
have the say so in their coming and their going.'' 

And the two good ladies discussed the short- 
comings of their pastor, his love of money, his 
extravagant improvements in the school, and 
bemoaned the removal of Father O'Brien, who, 
dear man, would have been much surprised to 
hear in what esteem he was held by his former 
parishioners. They had succeeded in concealing 
their real sentiments during his incumbency at St. 
Paul's. Indeed, Mrs. Higgins had sat in that 
very chair and mourned over his recalcitrant stub- 
bornness in riding a bicycle, when both she 
herself and Mr. Higgins had expressed their dis- 
approval. Cycling was not a dignified pastime for 
a priest, and nobody could make her say that it 
was ! 

The truth of the matter is that Father O'Brien 
was a devoted, zealous priest, and a first-class 
botanist, but he was not a financier. Four times 
a year he succeeded in remembering that the inter- 
est on the parish debt was due, and reminded the 
congregation in the gentlest, most polite way in 
the world of this unpleasant fact. Having per- 
formed his duty, he went back to the classification 
of South American orchids. 



220 The People of Our Parish 

And this is why the Bishop sent him to a pretty 
little church in the suburbs, which was entirely 
out of debt, and where he would have excellent 
opportunities for studying the pedigrees of plants. 

When Father Ryan succeeded him he lost no 
time in calling on every one of his parishioners, 
taking them block by block, so that no one escaped, 
and asking, with note-book in hand, what each 
would subscribe a month towards the paying off of 
the parish debt. The parish debt — why, the 
church would feel most uncomfortable without its 
debt; it was as old as the steeple, and, by this 
time, almost as high. 

And that was only a beginning. The people 
were soon made to feel that their debt was a 
regular Old Man of the Sea, and that there was no 
escape except through prompt and generous sub- 
scriptions. 

Those who subscribed the least complained the 
most. 

The habit of complaint passed on to other 
things after the debt had become an old story. 

The Browns object to the pew rents. They have 
been to Europe, and they point out the superiority 
of the European custom to our own. Distinctions 
of money ought to have no place in the house of 
God, and pews — especially pews in the middle 
aisle — are un-Christian and disedifying. They 
fail to show how the revenues of the parish are to 
be kept up to the necessary amount if the pews are 
not rented ; and that is the question which Father 
Ryan regards as hinging upon pew rents. 



Instructing the Pastor 221 

" Of course in the ideal parish, inhabited by 
quite ideal people/' admitted Mrs. Driscoll, 
" everybody would contribute according to his means 
to the support of the church and its pastors, and 
then the system of pew rents would be abolished. 
But so long as the average parishioner is selfish 
and vain, and bent upon getting a return for his 
money, the pews in the middle aisle will go to the 
highest bidder." 

Mrs. Corwin does not understand her pastor's 
harshness in regard to Catholics attending Protes- 
tant places of worship. "When one goes just for 
pastime, or to show regard for one's non-Catholic 
friends, I cannot see any harm,'' she says. "I 
know my religion, and nothing can change me; but 
I must say, I hear as good sermons in other 
churches as I hear in my own." 

It seems almost a bootless task to try to explain 
to her that one goes to church to worship God, to 
obtain grace through the channels of the Sacra- 
ments and prayer, and not for "pastime," nor to 
please one's friends; and that for a Catholic to go 
to a non-Catholic house of worship is an act of 
denial of her faith. No one questions the piety 
or sincerity of Protestants themselves, but their 
churches are not the place for Catholics. It is not 
a question of the goodness or the badness of the 
sermon, nor the piety or the want of piety of the 
people. As well might a man say, " I am a Demo- 
crat, but I sometimes vote the Republican ticket 
just to please my Republican friends. I can't see 
much difference, anyway. I know plenty of good. 



2 22 The People of Our Parish 

patriotic people who are Republicans, and we all 
have the same object in view, — the prosperity of 
our common country/' 

Mrs. Bertrand says that the reason she does not 
go to High Mass is because the sermon is so long 
and prosy, and the preacher uses such common 
metaphors, and preaches on such very trite sub- 
jects. "And then the choir is not at all what it 
should be; the soprano sings with that throaty 
method that is most annoying to sensitive ears.'* 

Mr. Bertrand protested vigorously against a 
paid choir; singers should use their voices for the 
glory of God, and not for mere hire. He is a 
lawyer who does not give his brains to the congre- 
gation for the love of God; but then, that is quite 
another story. 

Mrs. O'Tool has an objection, but it is not a 
very serious one. '^ I never did like to see a priest 
particular about his clothes. Father Ryan's coat 
fits as well as Mr. Robert Dale's, and I call that 
most unbecoming his sacred character; and his hat 
is as shiny, and his shoes, and his gloves are new, 
and he carries a cane, and you 'd think he was a 
millionaire instead of a poor priest that ought to 
be giving his money to the poor, and not putting 
it all on his back." 

Mrs. Wheeler finds in him just the contrary 
fault; he does not dress well enough to suit her 
fastidious taste, and he is entirely too generous 
with his money. " He gives and gives, and half 
the time the people are able to work. They know 
where they can impose on one's good nature, and 



Instructing the Pastor 223 

where they would be sent about their business on 
short order. The beggars don't bother me very 
much, I can, tell you ! " The telling is quite super- 
fluous to any one who enjoys the acquaintance of 
Mrs. Wheeler. 

Mr. Bertrand is almost scandalized at the 
" worldliness " displayed by the pastor in build- 
ing an addition to the parochial residence, and 
in having a piano in his sitting-room, and solid 
silver on bistable; but Mr. Bertrand mistook his 
listener when he mentioned these things to Dr. 
Mordant. 

"My dear sir,'' said the old Doctor, "I should 
not feel altogether comfortable in my own new 
home if the hard-working priests of the parish had 
not, at least, a few of the minor luxuries. The 
only pleasure they have is what they can get out 
of their home life. There are few places of amuse- 
ment at which they can be seen without causing 
disagreeable comment; they have no family ties, 
no clubs, and very little social life of any sort. 
And if in their scant hours of leisure they can find 
pleasure in a good library, a piano, an easy-chair, 
and a decent cigar to offer a brother priest, I, for 
one, shall always be ready to contribute my mite 
to pay for these things. 

"The laborer is worthy of his hire, and no body 
of men of equal attainments in the world are as 
poorly paid as our clergy. My assistant, who cast 
his first vote for a president at the last election, 
receives more in a year than does the gray-haired 
pastor of St. Paurs.'' 



224 The People of Our Parish 

One old crone complains because the priests do 
not visit their people as much as they should; 
another, that they visit the rich too much. 

A certain spinster dislikes to see a clergyman on 
a bicycle, and a widow objects to Father O'Neil 
because he is too old-fashioned and not sufficiently 
abreast of the times. Mrs. Morris declares that 
Father Ryan goes entirely too far in his stand 
against mixed marriages, and that it is absurd to 
expect people to get a dispensation to be married 
in their own home. It is useless for the poor priest 
to explain that he does not make the trouble, but 
that it is a law of the diocese which he must obey. 
"And the idea of charging for a dispensation ! It 
is positively scandalous ! Simony, I call it ! '' 

Mrs. Morris has never vouchsafed to explain who 
is to bear the expenses of the Chancery office if 
not those who benefit by it. The rules of the 
Church are made for a good purpose, and one is 
dispensed from them only for a good reason. If 
no one wanted a dispensation there would be no 
need of a capable man to take charge of this branch 
of diocesan business, no salary to pay him, no rent 
for his office, no money for paper and postage; but 
so long as people do want dispensations it is only 
fair that they should bear the expense incurred, 
and not those who reap no benefit. It ought to 
be superfluous to explain to any one that an appli- 
cant does not pay for the dispensation, in the sense 
that one pays for a barrel of sugar, any more than 
a client pays a judge for his decision. He pays 
the fees, if he is able to pay, connected with the 



Instructing the Pastor - 225 

granting of the dispensation, and if he is not able, 
he pays nothing. 

Some of the parishioners object to Father Ryan's 
teetotalism, and declare that such a stand is 
Pharisaical and puritanic, and that our Saviour 
Himself drank wine. Father O'Neil, his assistant, 
who was educated abroad, takes his glass of claret 
at dinner, and not a few of the good people are 
woefully scandalized, and wonder why Father Ryan 
permits strong drink in his house. 

The Archangel Gabriel has never been the pastor 
of the Church of St. Paul the Apostle, but if he 
were to assume charge there would not be lacking 
censorious ones to complain of his management, 
and to give him entirely superfluous advice. 

It is only fair to say, however, that the fault- 
finders are a small minority. The great body 
of the people are loyal, obedient, and warmly 
appreciative of the noble work and the brave self- 
denial of their pastors. And even the critics 
themselves are strictly clannish in their criticism, 
and resent, fiercely, anything of the sort from the 
outside. Mrs. Jenkins from St. James's had the 
temerity to agree with Mrs. Deering when that 
good lady voiced a complaint, and was promptly 
told that Father Ryan was quite the ablest priest 
in the diocese. "The Bishop took especial care 
in making the appointment because of the impor- 
tance of our parish." 



15 



XX 

OUR PARISH SOCIETIES 

"^TTMIIS parish is being ' clubbed * into model 
I behavior if not into premature translation 
to glory/' began Adele Norrison, as she came into 
a pleasant social group assembled at Mrs. Driscoll's, 
and looked daringly at young Horace, her cousin, 
who is wont to dispute nearly everything she says. 

"Just to hear himself talk," declares that clever 
young woman. 

Mrs. Driscoll had been explaining to her guest, 
Mrs. Bland, a high-church Episcopalian, the char- 
acter and workings of the parish organizations of 
St. Paul's. 

" Father Ryan believes that in union there is 
strength," continued Adele, "and he evidently 
wants all the kinds of strength that he can get. 
There is not a club or a society ever heard of on 
the top of the earth or the face of the waters that 
has not a branch or some sort of imitation in this 
parish." 

"This is a free country, and you don't have to 
belong to them all," put in her brother Carl. " No- 
body is expected to eat all the dishes on the bill of 
fare in a cafe, or to read everything in a newspaper, 
or to look at the three rings in a circus at the 
same time." 



Our Parish Societies 227 

" Carl, you always were rather vulgar, but it 
strikes me that a college man — man ! save the 
mark! — might find comparisons a little bit more 
dignified." 

"Oh, I didn't mean to compare Father Ryan 
and his societies to a circus. That was just your 
evil interpretation. I have studied the philosophy 
of style, even if you have not." 

"There are the sodalities, to begin with." 

"And an excellent beginning, my dear," an- 
swered Mrs. Driscoll. " I own I feel proudly 
elated whenever our sodalities are in evidence." 

"The Young Ladies' Sodality, the Young 
Men's Sodality, St. Anne's Sodality for the 
Married Women, the Married Men's Sodality — " 

"Yes, and every man of them goes to the Sacra- 
ments once a month, and they meet in the sodality 
hall to say prayers, and be lectured to, and read at, 
and cajoled into good behavior," explained Carl. 

"There is many a woman looks at the change 
wrought in her husband by this same sodality, and 
goes down on her knees and thanks God for it," 
said Mrs. Driscoll. 

"The Father Mathew Temperance Society has 
about killed the saloon business in this neighbor- 
hood — so Fritz Schmitz declares." 

"And the Boys' Blue Ribbon Society, which 
is merely a temperance society that has not yet 
grown up, for the boys take a pledge not to drink 
intoxicating liquors until they are twenty-one, is 
the safeguard of our youth." 

" Over at the parish school the youngsters have 



228 The People of Our Parish 

organized, too, and are as proud as Punch, in con- 
sequence," said Adele. '^ Our Tommie came home 
last week all aglow, and running into the sitting- 
room burst upon us with, * Oh, mamma, I 've 
taken a pledge, and I can't never swear! ' and his 
blue eyes were dancing with his new importance." 

"Oh, that is the Holy Name Society; I belong 
to that," vouchsafed Carl. "The members are 
pledged never to use profane or bad language, and 
to make an act of reparation when they hear the 
Holy Name in blasphemy." 

"To me there is something infinitely touching in 
that," said Mrs. Driscoll. "Those innocent little 
children trying to atone to our Lord for the in- 
sults offered to him by men, and, alas ! women, 
too, to whom He has given intellects and tongues." 

" Minna, not to be outdone, has her society, — 
the Society of the Angel Guardian; which consists 
in some special devotions to the guardian angels. 
And both the children belong to the St. Francis 
of Assisi Club, which has the welfare of birds 
and animals for its object. Minna has been har- 
boring the most forlorn-looking cat you ever saw, in 
following her rules, much to the disgust of Sarah, 
the cook, who says unsayable things in her throat 
whenever that cat gets under her feet. And Tom 
— the little rascal is only ten — reported to the 
policeman a man who was beating his horse, and 
coolly informed that be-buttoned official that he 
belonged to ' St. Francis Sizerum,' and couldn't 
let a horse be abused in that way. " 

" We grown-ups have the Altar Society, and the 



Our Parish Societies 229 

Society of the Living Rosary, and the League of 
the Sacred Heart, which takes in pretty much the 
whole parish." 

"What a marvellous growth has the League!" 
said Mrs. Mordant. " Scarcely a century has gone 
by since the saintly Visitandine nun. Blessed Mar- 
garet Mary, received her heavenly commission to 
establish a society for the adoration and devotion 
to the Sacred Heart of our Lord. I suppose it will 
never be known until time is no more all the mer- 
cies and blessings that came to a sinful world 
through the prayers and good works of this glorious 
society." 

" Ah, glorious ! There is no other word ! " mur- 
mured Mrs. Driscoll. 

" And there is the Purgatorian Society, — nobody 
who has a loved one in the great Beyond but finds 
consolation here, — this unique charity, that seems 
to bridge the gulf between the Here and the Whither 
by Masses, and prayers, and good works for the 
suffering souls in Purgatory. 

"What consolation there is in the doctrine of 
the Communion of Saints ! " 

"You have omitted the Catholic Knights of 
America," put in Adele, "and the Ancient Order 
of Hibernians, or the Order of Ancient Hiber- 
nians, I have forgotten which; and the Kenrick 
Guards, and the Wolfe Tone Cadets — I am sure I 
don't know what they do. Mamma says if they do 
nothing except keep the young boys out of mis- 
chief and bad company, they have served a sensible 
purpose." 



230 The People of Our Parish 

''And the peer of them all is the St. Vincent de 
Paul society." 

" Carl, I want you to read the life of Frederick 
Ozanam, by Kathleen O'Meara. I suppose you 
know he founded this society, and was a noble 
character, any way you look at him." 

''The St. Vincent de Paul is the society of 
organized charity," explained Mrs. Driscoll to her 
guest. 

" Last month our parish branch distributed ten 
tons of coal, over one thousand garments, and 
paid out three hundred dollars in rents for the 
sick or those out of work, and I 've forgotten the 
number of loaves of bread and pounds of meat 
distributed." 

"Why don't they have women in the society .'^" 
asked Adele Norrison. 

"Because they are men of sense," retorted 
Horace, winking shamelessly at Mrs. Driscoll. 

"Because they make it a point to investigate, 
personally, the cases reported to them as worthy 
of aid, and their duty calls them often into haunts 
where it would not be safe for ladies to go. Be- 
sides, women have so many channels for their 
benevolent activities that it is well to throw the 
responsibility of at least one on the men." 

"A man naturally shirks if he can get a good 
woman to pick up his charities for him," said 
Horace. 

"I must say," responded Mrs. Driscoll, "that 
when men do set out to be charitable they do it in 
a whole-hearted way that ought to put our niggardly 



Our Parish Societies 231 

doles to shame. They give dollars where we give 
dimes. 

"The Queen's Daughters is an organization on 
much the same lines, only that it has a wider 
scope. This society aims to have cooking-schools, 
and sewing-classes, and classes for mothers, and 
for all sorts of necessary instruction. Mrs. Dale 
is at the head of this, and Miss Horton is secre- 
tary ; and at the Saturday sewing-class the wealthiest 
and prettiest girls in the city are in attendance, 
working like little Trojans.*' 

"I wish they had another name,'* said Adele. 
"'Queen's Daughters' seems too much like an 
imitation of 'King's Daughters.'" 

" So long as they feed the hungry and clothe the 
naked, and instruct the ignorant as successfully as 
they are doing, I think they might be allowed to 
choose their own title. 

"The Catholic Foresters have recently been 
organized here, and Father Ryan has spoken of 
introducing the Women's League, — that society 
that is doing so much good in its three divisions 
over in our neighboring parish of St. James." 

"These societies are spiritual and charitable," 
explained Mrs. Driscoll. " They exist for the good 
of our souls, and the welfare of the bodies of our 
neighbor. 

"The intellectual and social side has not been 
forgotten. 

"First in this class is the Newman Reading 
Circle; this organization, new as it is, has worked 
wonders among our people. It has awakened and 



232 The People of Our Parish 

stimulated an interest in the best books, induced 
the desultory reader to take a regular and system- 
atic course of study, and it has drawn the people 
together in that most delightful bond of books; 
the weekly meetings sharpen the wits by the inter- 
change of ideas and the general discussion of perti- 
nent topics ; and it has opened, too, a very pleasant 
social side. 

''The Young Men's Club is on the line of the 
Young Men's Christian Association. Father 
Ryan says, take a good thing wherever you can 
honestly get it; besides, the Y. M. C. A. got 
their idea from the guilds and societies of the 
middle ages, 

"The young men have charming club-rooms, a 
billiard-table, smoking-rooms, card-rooms, a read- 
ing-room with the papers and magazines on file. 
Any young man of good standing can belong, and 
the dues are very small. Robert Dale, the son 
of a millionaire, is the president, and John Henry 
Brown, an ambitious young mechanic, is the 
secretary." . 

" Men are naturally so much more democratic 
than women!" murmured Mrs. Bland. 

"Mrs. Dale would probably not be president of 
a society which numbered Mr. John Henry Brown's 
wife among its members." 

" Not by a long shot ! " said Carl. 

"I detest slang, it is so hopelessly vulgar," put 
in Adele. 

" The. club is a rallying-place for the young men ; 
it gives them a pleasant retreat in which to spend 



Our Parish Societies 233 

their evenings. Man is a social animal, and likes 
to be amused/' 

"Why is there not a club for young women?" 
asked Adele. "Aren't we social animals, too? " 

" Oh, women can look out for themselves. As 
a matter of fact, there is a club for women; only, 
you have to work at something harder than paying 
calls or pouring tea at a reception, to be eligible 
for membership. It is called the St. Catherine's 
Industrial Club — why St. Catherine more than 
Saint Somebodyelse I don't know. 

" All the saints were industrious enough, if their 
biographers are trustworthy. 

"This society has its club-rooms, but they are 
not nearly so luxurious as the young men's, it must 
be confessed. There is an employment bureau con- 
nected with it, and upstairs there are bedrooms for 
women out of employment and without homes. 

" There is a cooking-school attached — St. Paul's 
ought to be blessed with good cooks; we instruct 
them enough, goodness knows ! " 

"We show ourselves there to be a sensible 
people," said Mrs. Mordant. "Give a man a good 
dinner, and then preach to him, and he will 
listen to you; but if you preach first, and promise 
the dinner afterwards, you have wasted your 
ammunition." 

"And then we have a University Extension 
Club, and a Shakespeare Class, and a Political 
Economy Club, and a Brownson Club for the 
study of philosophy; but these are all offshoots of 
the Reading Circle, and properly belong under 



234 The People of Our Parish 

that head, although they have weekly meetings 
quite apart from the regular assemblies, and some 
of the members do not come to the circle evenings 
at all. 

"And with all these societies, my dear Adele, 
can you name one that could be withdrawn without 
leaving the parish spiritually or intellectually 
the poorer?" queried Mrs. Driscoll. 

"My dear Mrs. Driscoll/' retorted the girl, "I 
am not objecting to the number of societies. I 
am proud of them as a loyal St. Paul's woman 
should be. I merely called attention to a glorious 
fact. 

"Comment is not criticism." 



XXI 

THE PARISH FAIR 

THE parish fair is regarded by most people as 
a necessary evil. 

Usually it is the corollary of the parish debt. 

In the ideal parish, people would contribute ac- 
cording to their means towards the good works 
at hand ; but ours is not quite ideal. 

On the principle that makes one take quinine 
after exposure to the danger of catching cold, a 
fair ought to be followed by special devotions in 
the church. 

No observant person can deny that the average 
fair appeals effectively to an ugly strain in human 
nature, — the desire to obtain that for which one 
has not given adequate value. 

Quite true that the motive which induces one 
to take chances on the various articles offered are, 
primarily, the success of a worthy cause; but 
equally true, there is a strong secondary one, of 
a desire to win. If you have any doubt of this 
bit of cynicism, just observe the eagerness with 
which the chances on' beautiful objects are bought, 
and the dragging, hesitating, palpably reluctant 
manner in which the monstrosities in satin banners 
and amateur water-colors are accepted. 



236 The People of Our Parish 

As a rule, I do not concede the superiority of 
the St. James people over us, but in the matter of 
supplying the parish revenues they, in racing 
phraseology, out-class St. Paul's. 

In the dark ages St. James's depended, like our- 
selves, upon the raffles at fairs for extra revenues. 
They have changed all that. 

This season they have had a series of fortnightly 
entertainments in the school-hall — admission, fifty 
cents. 

They started out with a progressive whist party, 
providing three handsome prizes for the winners 
— it is hard 'to give up old idols all at once. 

Refreshments were served, after the games, to 
those who wished to wait, and pay extra. 

Then the Honorable Timothy O'Rourke, the 
world-renowned orator and liberator, — Father 
Burke, the pastor, says he is world-renowned, — 
gave a lecture on "The Ruins of Ireland, and 
their Message to Humanity," at which ''stand- 
ing room only" was the gratifying notice on the 
billboard. 

A musicale with amateur talent followed, and 
Miss Linda Curran, niece to our own Mrs. Robert 
Dale, and cousin to ever so many fashionable folk, 
lent her voice and her beautiful self to the 
entertainment. 

Little Dorothy Cleary and her brother received 
an ovation for a cake walk; and Harry Masters 
sang coster songs almost as well as Chevallier. It 
is admitted that there were some strong differences 
of opinion as to the discrimination displayed in 



The Parish Fair 237 

the selection of stars. Father Burke certainly did 
go into the country for a few days after the affair, 
in serious danger of nervous prostration caused by 
sundry trying interviews with the mothers of infant 
wonders. He has been heard to say that profes- 
sional talent is, on the whole, more satisfactory. 

The parish school gave the next entertainment, 
and Mrs. Driscoll, who went with Mrs. Dale to 
the matinee performance on Saturday, says that 
it was refreshingly charming. 

Of course all the mothers and mothers' friends 
were there. 

Their entertainments are still going on, in the 
language of Macaulay, with undiminished vigor. 

They have tried pretty much everything that the 
ingenuity of man, and especially woman, can 
devise. 

They have even had a fair, — a real fair, I mean, 
and not a mere lottery. 

That is, for a week the ladies had booths in the 
hall, for the sale of articles useful or ornamental. 
This sale was announced in June, and the young 
women of the parish were asked to spend some of 
their summer leisure in fashioning timely articles. 
The hall was attractively decorated; pretty girls 
dispensed refreshments, or coaxed dollars from the 
pockets of impressionable youths. The Married 
Ladies had a table, and carried off the honors, 
'^distancing all competitors,*' since they had their 
husbands for buyers. The children conducted a 
flower booth on Saturday afternoon, but were not 
in evidence at any other time. 



238 The People of Our Parish 

The articles were sold at their market value, 
but as everything was contributed, the proceeds 
were satisfying to legitimate expectations. 

Of course the money by this mode of procedure 
comes in slowly, and in small sums; but the result 
in the end is about the same, and there is the 
immeasurable gain of having given something in 
exchange for the money. It is one of the few 
cases where one gives and yet has — many things : 
the reward of charity, for the good of the parish, 
is held up' as the inciting motive; and pleasant 
and instructive evenings for the people, many, 
if not the majority of whom, are poor and hard- 
working, and who hail the diversion of these enter- 
tainments as red-letter occasions in their rather 
humdrum lives. 

Besides this, it is much easier for the working- 
man to give fifty cents on each of ten evenings 
than to give five dollars at one time. And different 
members of the same family can select the occa- 
sions that best suit their tastes or other engage- 
ments. 

In every way I think their method far superior 
to our own. 

We have just had a fair, one of the regularly 
thorough-going sort. 

We made six thousand dollars, and that is the 
only feature that gives one unmitigated pleasure 
to record. 

Mrs. Driscoll, our sweet saint, put aside all 
nice social distinctions, and worked faithfully, 
side by side with Mrs. Diggs, taking orders and 



The Parish Fair 239 

suggestions from that lady in all meekness and 
humility. 

For Mrs. Diggs was the bright, particular star 
of our fair, — a Vega in the milky way of neo- 
phytes, like Mrs. Driscoll. * 

Mrs. Dale sent her check for twenty dollars. 
(Mrs. Driscoll spent thirty dollars in chances, and 
always on the ugliest things imaginable, just to 
save the feelings of their makers and donors.) 

All sorts of articles were raffled, from a marble 
Athene, clothed in laurel, to a hand-made stole. 
The sodality girls had raffle books, the school- 
children had them, the Married Ladies had them 
— everybody had them. 

The first move in the game was to secure the 
articles to be raffled, or sold, or eaten, or smoked. 
(The smoking-room was Mrs. McCarthy's clever 
idea, and the men voted it a "find.'') 

I record Miss Norrison's experience in her own 
vigorous words : " Mrs. Stiles was our first solici- 
tor. She appeared on behalf of the Married 
Ladies, and we ' pooled ' our donations, in the 
phraseology of graceless Carl, and presented a 
cut-glass rose-bowl. She had scarcely gone when 
Mrs. Bayless appeared on behalf of the ladies of 
the Altar Society, and as she is a sort of connection 
by marriage of my brother's, we couldn't refuse, 
and a lace-trimmed handkerchief was offered, and 
accepted with rather poor grace. 

''Then, after dinner, poor little Mary Madden, 
who fits my gloves at Anderson's, and is always 
so patient about it, came to ask something for the 



240 The People of Our Parish 

Sodality table. I parted with a favorite etching, 
because I could n't afford to buy anything more^ 
and I simply could not refuse Mary, when I re- 
membered that she had stood on her feet for ten 
hours that day, and was sacrificing needed rest to 
do something for her beloved parish. 

** Altogether, we had seven callers in the interest 
of the fair. 

"We refused one so awkwardly — she was under- 
bred enough to be importunate — that we were 
' not at home ' to any of the remaining three. 

"We had grapes at thirty cents a basket for 
dessert, alternating with tapioca pudding during 
the intervening week, and then, with our united 
savings, we went to the fair. 

" It required only twenty-five minutes in which to 
spend our money, and then we watched the other 
victims. 

"The visitor was met almost at the threshold of 
the hall by one or a dozen solicitors, with rafitle- 
book in hand, and before he reached the flower 
booth, arranged seductively in the centre, he had 
parted with several dollars in chances. But that 
was just the beginning. At every table he was 
met with the same demand, and in going from one 
to another he was seized upon as the lawful prey 
of the free lances, girls attached to no particular 
table, or of the representatives from all. 

" Charity is a beautiful thing, but it ought to be 
voluntary; a man surrounded and besieged by a lot 
of pretty girls, or babbling women, especially if he 
be lacking in moral courage, or addicted to vanity, 



The Parish Fair 24 1 

is really not a free agent. He spends far more 
than he can afford before he begins to realize that 
he is doing so. Of course I know that raffles and 
lotteries are not in themselves wrong; if they were 
kept within bounds, if the people were left to 
admire in peace, buying an article here, taking a 
chance there, as inclination dictated, raffles would 
serve very well in the absence of something better 
for the purpose intended. 

** Not content with the raffles, we brought politics 
into the fair. Rival candidates were put up to 
be voted for at ten cents a vote, — a Morris chair, 
instead of an office, being the prize. Of course the 
candidates had to treat to cigars every man and boy 
in the hall who presented himself for that offering. 
And the things they bought, of the kind that 
Mr. Howells calls Jamescracks, when he thinks 
jimcracks too familiar, must have filled their poor 
wives with dismay. Dennis Murphy, who wants 
to be an alderman, — only Heaven and the politi- 
cians know why, — paid ten dollars for a pincushion ; 
and his poor little wife, wearing a cheap jacket and 
mended gloves, stood by, and said nothing. 

" Over in one corner, for the benefit of those who 
found the raffles tame, and of young boys with a 
few nickels to spend, gambling, quite unmixed 
with a semblance of anything else, was in full 
swing. A man with numbered paddles sold them 
at ten cents apiece, the winner getting a dollar. 

"This proved a popular device, especially with 
the children. 

"The winner of the dollar generally invested a 

16 



2^1 The People of Our Parish 

part of it in candy, which he did not always share 
with the envious losers. 

**0n the stage, occupied by the orchestra, the 
politicians each told how much he loved the city 
and hated political corruption, and then offered a 
mild little bribe, in the way of cigars, to the 
voters present. 

" Perhaps the most pleasing feature was the voting 
of a picture to the most popular teacher in the 
parish school. It was beautiful to see the children 
scramble with their pennies to the voting stand, 
and the eagerness with which they canvassed the 
crowd for votes for their beloved teacher. Fritz 
Anglin, whose father keeps the Palace Saloon, 
two blocks from the church, carried the election 
for his room. He handed in five dollars in one 
lump, and boasted, like the insufferable little cad 
he is, that his father was rich and would give him 
all the money he wanted. 

"Poor little Tommie Blake, his red-stockinged 
toes peeping out of a torn shoe, replied loyally, 
' My mother would give me lots, too, if she had 
it, but she ain't got it; she give me seven pennies, 
and my brother Dick give me five, and I voted 
'em all for Sister Lucretia, you bet ! ' 

" In former years we had a bar, and a bar-tender 
from Anglin's, sent free of charge * with the 
compliments of the proprietor,' to mix the drinks. 
And the genial pastor, who gave the total absti- 
nence pledge to one portion of his flock, was sup- 
posed to be gratified to see another portion going 
in a steady phalanx towards the bar; and if faces 



The Parish Fair 243 

looked flushed, and the retreat seemed not quite 
so steady — it was for the good of the cause. 
Happily, the Bishop has put an end to this 
feature. 

"At one time, too, there was dancing, and the 
young girls assisting at the fair sometimes danced 
with men who did not often have the privilege of 
speaking to that kind of girl. That, also, is of 
the past. Prudently so." 

Miss Norrison, evidently, is not in favor of the 
parish fair. 

Yet, so long as the fair is held, all the mem- 
bers of the parish should make it a matter of 
honor and Christian duty to contribute, not only 
their money, but also their work and time. 

A few do the work year after year, and hard 
work it is, none harder, and do it uncomplainingly. 
Mrs. Diggs likes it, but she is an exception. 

The Sodality girls notably, many of whom are 
employed in various ways during the day, go into 
the work with untiring zeal. They solicit dona- 
tions, and sell tickets, and take raffle-books; and 
many are the snubs and rebuffs they meet with, 
and from members of the parish. 

Mrs. Dale annually sends a check; her daughters 
do nothing. 

Mrs. Driscoll, who is quite as high up in the 
world, the worldly world of cotillons and Dante 
clubs, as is Mrs. Dale, gives money, and time, 
and sweet, wise counsel. 

Mrs. Dale thinks the fairs are vulgar, but she 
does nothing to make them more refined. 



244 The People of Our Parish 

It is whispered in ecclesiastical circles that the 
days of the parish fair are numbered. Pastors, as 
well as people, hope, ardently, that this is true. 

An annual bazaar might be made to yield a 
large revenue, with all " Midway '' features, so to 
speak, of multitudinous raffles, votes, and paddles 
eliminated. 

Mrs. Bayless waxes enthusiastic over the 
methods of the Church of the Epiphany, "ritual- 
istic and high, " whose head is her gracious Majesty, 
Victoria. 

The ladies of that select sheepfold give monthly 
teas that are most popular social functions. 
People wear their best gowns to them, and the 
neighborhood, for a block, is filled with irre- 
proachable carriages and coachmen in English 
livery. 

When Miss Norrison agreed with her that 
these affairs are much superior to our own, and 
suggested that Mrs. Bayless, who has a beautiful 
home and no small children, offer her house to 
Father Ryan for a carnation tea, with orchestral 
accompaniment, that worthy matron was horrified. 
" And have a lot of dirty old women tramping 
over my carpets, and fingering the curtains, and 
spilling their tea or breaking my china .^ No, 
thank you. My altruism is not of such heroic 
heights ! '' 

And so the harassed pastor returns, perforce, 
to the parish fair. 



XXII 

NOTES FROM A MISSION 

FATHER RUSSELL has just given the last 
sermon of the mission, and the two weeks of 
spiritual awakening are at an end. Still, in the 
glow of those burning words, one feels that being 
a saint would not be so very difficult after all. 
The charm of the preacher — magnetic gift would 
perhaps be a better term — is that he knows how to 
bring his sermons, his theories, in touch with 
practical, every-day life. 

These are some of the things that he said, — 
the gist, if not always the exact words : — 

*^ People act as if the Catechism which they 
learn as children is merely a little book to give 
exercise to the memory, or a storehouse of polite 
learning, to be acquired and put away in the 
mind, along with Cicero's orations, or Plutarch's 
' Lives.' 

"Of course they know that a few little things 
are to be practised : they go to Mass on Sundays 
and holydays, and abstain from meat on Fridays; 
that much is binding, and not to be evaded ; but 
as for fasting on ember days, giving up amuse- 
ments in Lent, denying themselves for charity, 
contributing to the support of their pastors, mak- 



246 The People of Our Parish 

ing mixed marriages, or marrying cousins, — that 
is a different story. 

"They know that the Theological Virtues are 
Faith, Hope, and Charity, but it does not occur 
to them to make the sign of the cross when passing 
a church where dwells Our Lord in the Blessed 
Sacrament; or to stop inside for a little visit 
before the Tabernacle. That may be all very well 
for old women, and young girls, and nuns, but 
men and women of the world have other concerns. 

"They will tell you that the Cardinal Virtues 
are Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance. 
But they rush in where angels would fear to tread, 

— into all sorts of dangers, spiritual and temporal, 

— and then besiege Heaven and the Saints to extri- 
cate them from the toils of their own folly, — this 
is their prudence. 

"Justice, as far as their lights go, they prac- 
tise; that is, they do not cheat, nor injure their 
neighbor in his property or good name. Fortitude 
is not so common. Why is the cross laid upon 
them ? they cry. Why come so many unmerited 
misfortunes.^ — always unmerited in their eyes, no 
matter what their sins. Why should they be 
punished for another's transgressions.*^ Job said, 
in the grandeur of his love and faith, ' The Lord 
gave, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be 
the name of the Lord ! ' 

"But these weak ones, if they do not question 
the justice of God in so many words, in their 
hearts are rebellious against His decrees. And 
Temperance — they do not get intoxicated, as an 



Notes from a Mission 247 

irrational brute might do if given all the liquor 
it could swallow, but do they ever think of deny- 
ing themselves the palatable drink to save a few 
cents for the poor? Do they put aside a delicate 
tidbit at table as a little act of secret mortification 
of the appetite, as was the practice of the saints? 
Do they leave the comfortable seat, the soft divan, 
for the weak or the aged ? Do they resolutely lay 
down the interesting story at the usual bedtime 
hour, so as not to encroach upon the time which 
belongs to prayer, to the examination of con- 
science, nor to steal the hours that the body 
requires for rest, in order to perform the day's 
duties well? Do they deny themselves an evening 
at the play, and give the dollar saved to have a 
Mass said for the suffering souls? 

" One can be temperate in so many things besides 
eating and drinking; and self-denial comes easily 
in the footsteps of temperance. 

"'Avoid extremes,' said an ancient philosopher. 
He said it in Latin, but it is just as true in 
English. 

"And you, my friends, in what class are you? 

"You believe in the Sacrament of Confirmation, 
— of course you believe in it, you say, — that in 
this Sacrament you receive the gifts and fruits of 
the Holy Ghost; but what is your practice? 

"Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, 
Knowledge, Piety, the Fear of the Lord — how 
many of you even remember the names of these 
precious gifts a year after your Bishop has sealed 
your brow in Confirmation. 



248 The People of Our Parish 

" How many of you seek after the wisdom which 
pertains to the things of heaven, — to the myste- 
ries of religion, to the power and goodness and 
wisdom of God as displayed in His Creation, in 
His Church, even in the souls of His fallen 
creatures? How much do you value that divine 
understanding which would make you appreciate 
your faith as the only gift worth caring for in a 
transitory world of trouble and care? How ardently 
do you long for the knowledge, not of science and 
language, of government and money-getting, but 
a knowledge of the workings of God's Providence, 
day by day, in a world that deserves it so little? 
How many of you pray for the counsel to direct 
your actions by the rules of Christian prudence 
and perfection, so that every act of your lives may 
be for the honor of God, the salvation of your own 
soul, and the edification of your neighbor? How 
many of you stop to think that these gifts are to 
perfect and guide the will as well as the under- 
standing, — fortitude, with which to face the evils of 
the world, generously to bear your crosses as from 
the hand of God; piety, the yearning of the heart 
towards God, a love and appreciation of holy 
things ; the fear of the Lord, which overcomes all 
fear of the world and the world's rules, when it 
is a question of offending God or of offending the 
world ? 

"And this spiritual wealth that came to you in 
the days of your innocent youth — how earnestly 
have you labored to increase and preserve it ? 

" Let some one leave you a material fortune, and 



Notes from a Mission 249 

how diligently, anxiously, perseveringly you seek 
to make it bear interest and multiply; but the 
heritage of the Holy Ghost — you are content to 
let that remain idle in your souls, or, perhaps, 
vanish for the want of any attention. Charity, 
Joy, Peace, Patience, Benignity, Goodness, Long- 
suffering, Mildness, Faith, Modesty, Continency, 
Chastity — if you had kept this legacy, what a bit 
of Eden on earth would be your soul ! 

" Some of you say, ' Father, I should like to be 
better, to do something more than I am doing for 
God and my own soul, but I do not seem to have 
the opportunity ; my life is restricted, hemmed in 
by a daily routine and petty cares. ' 

"There is no life too restricted for the practice 
of the virtues which make saints. God does not 
expect the impossible. He does not want from 
one what it would be a grave offence for another to 
withhold. 

"You learned in your little Catechism the names 
of the works of mercy, Corporal and Spiritual, 
and you learned, too, something of the ways in 
which you are to practise them. 

"To feed the hungry is the first of the corporal 
works, and this is the one which everybody, not a 
devil in human form, practises to some little 
extent ; even the boasting infidel, the lowest 
libertine, does not keep back his pittance when 
the sad-eyed, starving woman, or the little child 
in rags makes its appeal. 

" It is the bounden duty of every one to give in 
proportion to his means, and few of you do this. 



250 The People of Our Parish 

The dollar from the workingman is a princely gift, 
where the hundred from the millionaire is a miser's 
dole. 

"To feed the hungry, to give drink to the 
thirsty, to clothe the naked, to ransom captives, to 
harbor the harborless, to visit the sick, to bury 
the dead — how many occasions arise every day for 
the busiest of you to perform these. The poor 
woman who must prepare the meals with her own 
hands for her little family, yet can spare the time 
to take a bit of pudding or a plate of toast to an 
invalid neighbor; the elder sister can pause in 
her task to give a drink to clamoring little ones; 
the housewife can go over the family wardrobe, 
finding a garment here, another there, that can be 
spared for the poor; the maiden can give an after- 
noon from pleasure to sewing for the poor, either 
at home or at the parish sewing-society; the 
wealthy matron can take off the luxuries from her 
table during Lent, and devote the money to the 
purchase of material, and use her time in fashion- 
ing it into garments for the needy; all these are 
works of mercy. But let no one think that, when 
she gives away old garments which she cannot 
possibly wear herself, and which can be of little 
service to their recipients, she has been prac- 
tising charity. She has merely rid herself of an 
incumbrance. 

"*At least there are no captives in our day to 
be ransomed,' says one. 

"No captives.? There are captives to inhuman 
employers of labor, who grind down their work- 



Notes from a Mission 251 

people to the lowest pittance; captives to stern 
necessity; captives to ignorance, to want, to prej- 
udice; captives in distant lands to cruel laws and 
enslaving barbarism; captives, everywhere, to the 
devil. Your contribution to the foreign missions, 
to the Truth Society, your patronage of shops 
where honest labor is honestly paid, your strength 
pitted against injustice, even the cancelled stamps 
that you send to aid the foreign missions, — in all 
these ways you are ransoming captives. 

"You harbor the harborless in every penny that 
you give to orphanages, to industrial schools, to 
hospitals; you cannot, unless in rare instances, 
take into your own homes the homeless stranger, 
but you can contribute out of the means God in 
His mercy has given to you and withheld from the 
other, to support the institutions where shelter 
can be found. And every one can visit the sick. 
Sickness comes, at some time or other, to every 
household; even the invalid in a comfortable home 
is cheered by the sight of a friendly face, a bunch 
of roses, or a book left as a remembrance; and to 
the sick poor, where doctors and medicines and 
nourishing food must be had, and there is no 
money to pay for them, the visit is a sacred duty; 
and a dollar slipped into the work-worn^ wrinkled 
hand of the bereaved widow in the tenement, and 
you have helped to bury the dead. 

"Spiritual Works of Mercy — that has a for- 
midable sound to timorous ears, and yet they are 
not hard. 

"What are they.? To admonish the sinner. 



252 The People of Our Parish 

The life of a consistent Christian is the best 
admonition a sinner can have; a gentle word of 
reproach, an indignant protest at a public wrong, 
these are your duty, and should be counted your 
privilege. To instruct the ignorant. How effec- 
tively, yet how quietly, how sweetly, this may be 
done on so many occasions. An intelligent expla- 
nation of points of doctrine or some part of the 
beautiful liturgy of the Church, never obtruded on 
any one, yet always at the behest of the inquirer; 
books of instruction and devotion, given or lent 
to non-Catholic friends, or to ignorant Catholics 
— the number of these last is appalling; a chance 
afforded a simple domestic to attend an instruc- 
tion or to hear a sermon; the courteous invitation 
to a friend to go with you to hear a good preacher 
or to attend a mission, and the thoughtful pro- 
vision of a prayer-book for the occasion ; the dime 
or the dollar contributed with a willing heart to 
the Truth Society, or to help the mission work, or 
to pay the subscription to a Catholic paper sent to 
some one in a distant hamlet, or for books and 
papers left at hospitals, or prisons, or asylums. 

"To counsel the doubtful. This is not so easy; 
but every intelligent Catholic knows, or ought to 
know, the refutation against the doubts of revealed 
truth; and if he is not sure of his own knowledge, 
he ought to be able to lay his hand on a book that 
would silence any honest scruple. To comfort the 
sorrowful. Every one is called upon, at some 
time, to perform this Christlike work, but not 
every one does it in the Christlike spirit, — a word 



Notes from a Mission 253 

of sympathy, the tender little note of condolence, 
the card left at the door where death has come, 
loyal friendship to one on whom disgrace has 
fallen, a whisper of hope to the despairing; even 
to drive away the tears of a little child is not in 
vain. 

"To bear wrongs patiently does not mean to 
suffer injustice where justice may be had, for that 
would be weakness; but to suffer without mur- 
muring when evil comes through the perfidy of 
another, — a bank suspends payment, you are 
thrown out of work, you are blamed where blame- 
less, reproached where you have done your best, 
put aside to see others in your rightful place. 

"To forgive all injuries follows, naturally, from 
a patient endurance of wrong. There is not one 
of you to whom there has not come, or will not 
come sometime during life, a chance to revenge 
an injury. A pagan under Nero would glut his 
vengeance to the full, but a Catholic under the 
sweet sovereignty of a Saviour who forgave His 
enemies when in dying agony on the Cross, goes 
out of his way to serve his persecutor. 

" You know the story of the French monarch, 
who said, regally, ' The King of France does not 
avenge the injuries of the Duke of Orleans. ' 

"And Robert the Christian does not avenge the 
wrongs done to Robert the man. The wrongs 
may not be grave — happily, it is not often in any 
one's power to do his neighbor a vital injury; but 
the cumulative, petty persecutions are almost as 
hard to bear. A woman's tongue sets on foot a 



254 The People of Our Parish 

slander about you; sooner or later a disgraceful 
story that is true about this very woman — for it is 
usually women with shady histories of their own 
who delight in slandering other women — will come 
to your ears. If you are a Christian it goes no 
further; if a pagan, then is your chance for revenge. 
** And we come to the last of the seven — to pray 
for the living and the dead. Here, at least, the 
work depends entirely on yourselves; no waiting for 
opportunity. And our dear Lord Himself com- 
manded you to pray, pray always; and what beau- 
tiful, what consoling promises He made to those 
who obey this sweet command ! If your work 
requires the greater part of your time, your heart 
can be lifted up in prayer, even whilst your hands 
are busy at their appointed tasks. A messenger 
boy recited the entire rosary every day whilst going 
about his errands. And a whispered ejaculation 
of faith, hope, and charity, a short act of contri- 
tion, an invocation to our Lady, a De Profundis 
for the dead — how easy, yet how efficacious ! And 
then you have our Lord dwelling day and night in 
your churches, at every turn, — how sweet to slip 
away from the cares and distractions of the world 
to spend a few moments before the Tabernacle ! " 



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